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Angels In My Hair – The Secret Code While Dating a Sociopath

This is an old post that I wrote in 2015. But I took it down, as I didn’t want to glamourise being in a relationship with a sociopath as my datingasociopath.com website is about healing and recovery for victims of abuse. But it is a true story. Of a woman and a man who picked up a book, he on a plane, and she at a book shop in a train station. When they met he handed her the book, and she was so surprised, perhaps it would keep her in the relationship far longer than she should have.

Each time, when the narcissistic rage occurred. When I am sure the devil himself was in him. The colour drained from his skin, eyes jet black, veins up on his neck and the atmosphere in the room was dark, heavy – and I was scared – I would shout ‘STOP ANGELS IN MY HAIR’…. each time it stopped. It was so strange. It was like a code word, this has gone too far.

In 2015 after we split – I had an Akashic reading, who was this man to me, and was there a past life connection? The answer was impactful, she said that he was an ancient monad soul, much older than me. That he did not need to be on earth this lifetime, but he had came to help me. Strange thing is, despite the psychological mind trip of those years I knew in my soul it was true. I cried. I never saw him in the same light again. The reading said how he did not know who he really was, as our memories are wiped at birth.

Even odder – is that while I did not understand at the time – my training and knowledge gained during those years would in fact many years later protect me. In a way more significant than many could ever know.

Angels in my hair

It was March 2010, that I was sat on a train station and realised with dismay that I had missed the train. I sighed as I realised that the next train wouldn’t be along for at least another hour.

I wandered to the book store at the edge of the railway station, and after picking up some snacks for the journey, I was pulled towards the book department. The books were neatly displayed in sections of topical interest. I felt drawn to the section that had a sign above in bold print ‘spiritual’. It was here that I would buy a book, which would have a deep impact on me.

I didn’t really know what it was that I was looking for, but I did remember that once I was told in spiritual church, that angels will help you to find the book that you need to read. I was drawn towards a book by Lorna Byrne, called Angels in my hair.

After making my purchase at the till, where the assistant smiled warmly at me, I headed towards the train platform, keen not to miss the next train.

The journey to Manchester felt like a long one. To pass the time, I started to read the book. It was March 2010. At this point in my life, I had not met either the Narcissist or the Sociopath. My daughter had died at birth 2 months earlier.. I was sad, as anybody would be at that time of their life, but I was also still living innocent.

As I read the first few chapters, I knew that this was a book that I was meant to own. The book had a strong impact on me, within the first few chapters, the author described her life, one of a person that from childhood, could see angels. She described a life where until the age of five, she played with a little boy that she presumed was her brother. She watched as her brother often sat on her mother’s lap, while she rested in front of the fire place. Lorna noted how her brother appeared brighter than other people, full of light, but as a small child, never questioned why. Lorna was surprised to learn, at the age of 5, that the little boy she had played with, was not alive, and was actually her brother who had died shortly after birth.

As a mother who had recently lost a daughter at birth, this book struck a strong emotional cord with me. I held it tight, and felt that it was perhaps something that I was meant to read. Maybe it was telling me something, that perhaps there was more to the life than what we see.

I never really read the whole book. For some reason, it was as if those first few chapters, were the important pages, which sent a message to me. My daughter was still around me, even if I couldn’t see her. I returned from Manchester, and put the book safely away in a drawer next to my bed.

I hadn’t thought about this book too much, although the message had stayed with me. It was almost two years later, when the man that I had met, who I thought was the love of my life, moved quickly into my home.

I hadn’t mentioned the book, or its significance to me, so I was surprised, when, after unpacking his suitcases, he approached me, as I sat on the sofa in my kitchen, and said softly, ‘I have something for you, it is a book, I think you might like it’. He held out his hand, and as I looked at the book, I froze. It was the same book. Angels in my hair. He told me how he had picked it up and read it on a plane.

I ran upstairs to check if my copy of the book was still in the drawer, in the bedside table, next to the bed. It was. I looked at the man in front of me, and explained the significance of this book, at that moment, there was a connection between us that was felt, not just in the heart, but in the soul.

Unbeknown to me, this book, Angels in my hair, would diffuse many difficult situations, with the man that I at that point in my life, had no idea was actually a compulsive pathological liar, and a sociopath.

Whenever things became really bad, I would yell ‘STOP, ANGELS IN MY HAIR’. Each time, he would be still, pause, and not always stop the behaviour, but the behaviour would be tamed.

I didn’t know when he handed me that book that a year later, I would begin to write a blog, called Dating a Sociopath. I could hardly believe that datingasociopath.com was a free website, and that somebody else hadn’t taken it. I immediately paid for the name, and began to write. At that point in my life, in February 2013. I knew who he was, and he knew who he was too. We had spent the previous eight months, reading books from the library, researching, watching YouTube videos. My mother even bought me Without Conscience by Robert Hare for my birthday.

Throughout 2013, the sociopath in my life, was probably beyond crazy. He stalked me, harassed me, threatened me, and made my life hell. Not that readers of this site would have known this. The police were called, probably three times a week to my home. No contact didn’t really work, as if I ignored him, the texts/calls would escalate, until he was outside shouting and yelling outside of my home. I was almost evicted for anti-social behaviour. Life was spinning out of control.

I realised that it was pointless, and futile to raise his behaviour with him. So, instead, I would write posts, knowing that he would read it, and hoping that perhaps the message would get through (it was worth a shot, I loved him). This became the foundation of my website. A blog, which was writing to the person in my life, explaining how his behaviour looked to me, and what the impact of his behaviour was on me, and how it made me feel.

The strangest thing, is this. During 2013, I would constantly be locked out of my email, Facebook etc., as he hacked into my accounts. My life was hell, and I lived my life in 2013, as I recluse, barely seeing anyone, and just writing this site, writing posts to him. In a desperate attempt to help him to change. Sociopaths do not have too much respect, as was evident by his hacking into my Facebook, and Email accounts. I had changed my password so many times, that I would lock myself out, as I struggled to keep up and remember new passwords. Yet, despite this, despite that I wrote with honesty about his behaviour, he always respected this website, and would never do anything to harm it.

If ever he complained, (as sociopaths like to be private), I would simply say the words to him Angels in my hair…. And he would pause, and simply say ‘ok’.

Perhaps, this book was just a coincidence, maybe which happens a lot, two people have the same book? Maybe? I do know that I had never mentioned my copy of the book, or its significance to me, before he handed me his copy. I also know, that it is the one connection between us, which has enabled him to accept that I wrote about his behaviour, and would continue to do so.

I often wonder, ‘was I meant to meet him?’ did our time together have a purpose? Whenever things became difficult between us (which was often), I would say the phrase, Angels in my hair, and always he would stop, pause, and rethink his behaviour.

Within ¾ months of writing, I was shortlisted for Cosmopolitan blogger of the year. I was asked to be on Huffington Post Live, twice. Within 2 years, this site had attracted 1.5 million readers in over 250 countries around the world.

This is the origins of this website. A person who was writing to her sociopath partner. It was easier than trying to have a conversation about it. Always he would be angry, deflect, blame me, and say ‘well what about?’… Something irrelevant. I never intended it to be a popular website, although I felt a strong pull to write. I couldn’t stop writing.

In 2014, I gave him another chance, and took him back into my life. In my mind, I wondered, as his behaviour patterns continued, I wondered if I could have him in my life, and write about his behaviour. After all, isn’t that how journalists work? They go to war, to report on war stories. Besides this, despite his behaviour, which I knew all about, I loved him. I was not the Sociopath, with fickle emotions. This was a man that I loved, with all of my heart. Probably, the greatest love of my life. I am the type of woman, who is used to adverse behaviour, I don’t expect perfection. Probably I would be bored with a man, that was perfect, ‘who is perfect anyway?’ Perhaps I liked the challenge. Or maybe I saw something other than the behaviour. There was something about us, some pull, and a connection, that I cannot explain, or understand. It was beyond Sociopath manipulation, and mind control. Of which he did this too. This was a spiritual connection, which was felt, not just in my heart, but in my soul.

We finally split in January 2015. His controlling behaviour had become too much. It hadn’t worked, me writing and being with him. In fact, quite the reverse, it became impossible to write, as he controlled me, and my mind so much, I shut down, and couldn’t write any more. I felt numb, dead inside, and had nothing left to offer, or give. I had nothing to give to myself, let alone anyone else. I sank into depression, and felt terrible, for not continuing with my work here. I developed writers block with this site, and struggled to write here. I have so many posts in draft form, but were never published. I had fear of WordPress that I couldn’t shake off. So, I would write regularly on the Facebook page, but not here.

Earlier this year, I decided that writing was in my past. That I needed to focus on my own healing and recovery, and thought I would look for a job in the real world. I soon obtained a job, and began working with a fantastic team of people. It was great being back in the work place again, as it is isolating, being at home and writing. I really enjoyed it. But in my heart, I was pulled back to writing, and felt that there is work that I still need to do.

I know that this is very long. Many people had questioned, ‘how could I write, and the sociopath know about it and not try to destroy the site?’ the answer – is simply – Angels in my hair.

Help from spirit when you need it most!

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I was living in my old house. A house that needed repair. And realistically, it wasn’t really work that I could do myself. Although I did try.

It probably sounds stupid, that it had never occurred to me to get help. Outside, professional help. I had always assumed that professional help would cost a lot of money.

So, I struggled to do it alone.

One day, I returned home, and water was pouring through the kitchen ceiling from the water tank above. I had one of those ceilings that had horrible artex covering. It had been there since I moved into the property. I put a bucket underneath and went upstairs and put another bucket underneath the water tank.

For weeks, I then struggled, to try to repair the kitchen ceiling. I had needed to sell the house, and my ability to sell now seemed even further away. But I tried, at first i tried to hack it off. Oh, dear the mess that made. Then I tried to re-skim it 😉 🙂 I can only manage a smiley face as I write that.

There was me, with no skills at all, trying to reskim the kitchen ceiling. If it wasn’t a mess before, it certainly was in more of a mess, with my intervention.

So, I sat at the bottom of my stairs, and I cried. How am i EVER going to fix this? It’s just not possible. Or so I thought. I cant remember if I prayed for help. But I think I must have done.

The next day, I had randomly decided to buy a tv. Not a new one, just a second hand one. I donated my old tv to a friend.

When I got to the ladies house who was advertising her tv, I was surprised as she proudly pulled out some photos. She told me it was of her son who had been in the army and he had been awarded some special medals by the queen.

I stared hard,as the person in the photo was a boy who had been in my class at school every day from the age of 5. I was now 36 years old. I asked her how his friend was, who used to be a friend of mine. She told me he was doing well, and was now a plumber. She gave me his number if ever I needed work doing.

I thought back to the leaking water tank that had caused so much damage, and how I had been reluctant to ask someone to come in to help.

The tv was a big heavy widescreen Sony Tv. My daughter and I somehow managed to get it into the car, and drove home. But trying to get out of the car, she gave up. Said it was too difficult, that she couldn’t get it into the house. We would have to be without a tv. I almost cried. Stood outside in the street, wondering how i would get this tv into the house, and now I have given my old tv away.

Then, a neighbour called out ‘do you need any help’? and he shouted to another neighbour to come and help me. They both, two big strong men, carried the tv into the house.

As the neighbour came in, he glanced at my ceiling, and reminded me that he was a plasterer and could help. So, in a day…. i had a plasterer who repaired the ceiling, and a plumber who fixed the leak.

It was so easy. I had been making my life so much harder by struggling alone. Sometimes, if you really are struggling for help. All you need to do, is ask. And help will come your way 🙂

How we connect in dreams

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We are all connected. When we sleep, we return home to spirit. In spirit, in our sleep, we agree how we will help each other on the earth plane.

Following stillbirth in January 2010, I had returned back to work at the beginning of June 2010. I returned to work, and people were surprised at how ‘normal’ I seemed. However, the truth was, that I was still in shock, and I hadn’t grieved at all.

Every Tuesday, I continued to go to the spiritualist church and sit in meditation. I think, at the time, for me, I was just going to visit my daughter. I saw this as ‘normal’.

However, a few weeks after starting work, I went to church and was stunned to walk in through the church door, and there in front of me, was a man (who was usually part of the circle), holding a real live baby girl. I stood, and looked, shocked and stunned,tears rolled down my face. I couldn’t believe what i was seeing. I walked out in tears. And when I returned home, I called my mother. I yelled ‘my baby is dead, mum, my baby is dead’. My mum tried to calm me down, it was my very first realisation, that my daughter was actually dead. She wasn’t alive.

It took me a few weeks to gain the courage to return to the church. When I did, I spoke to the person taking the class, and I said, how selfish I thought the man was to bring his live baby girl in, when my daughter was dead. It was the only time that I could see her. He could see his daughter whenever he wanted. I could only see my daughter in meditation. I told her how much it had upset me, and that I cried so much since that day.

The class leader sat across from me, and looked, with a sympathetic face, and simply said ‘but Nikki, he has helped you, you see you have not grieved, and he has done this to help you. One day you will thank him for this. It was kind of him to offer his daughter to help you to grieve’ . I looked at her, and thought that she had gone quite mad. She really didn’t understand.

I asked her to explain further. And she explained how we often meet up in dreams, to help each other. And obviously, he had agreed to offer his daughter, to help me to grieve.

I thought that she was quite mad. I didn’t see how this could be true at all. But later, in my life, other events were to happen, which showed me how we go to spirit in our dreams. She was also right, from that point on, I began to grieve my daughter. 6 months after she had died.

Magpies and dreams

It had taken a lot for me to go into another relationship. For me to trust somebody. It was now the end of July 2010, on the weekend of the 6 month anniversary of my daughters death. The relationship came to an end. I was absolutely devastated. I had decided, because of the way that he had treated me, to have nothing further to do with him.

That night, I sat on my bed in my room, which was at the top of a three storey house. I tried to write a text, to say goodbye, and day turned to night. I wrote text after text, but nothing felt right to send. I kept writing this text, and hours passed. I was suddenly startled by a ‘tap tap tapping’ noise. My concentration was broken, and I looked to see what the noise was. I stared at my bedroom window,where the noise was coming from, and could barely believe my eyes. There was a single magpie tapping its beak at the window. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing and stared, it ceased tapping and flew away. I looked at the clock, it was 4am. As I believed that a single magpie was a bad omen, I threw the phone down onto the bed, and decided not to send the text. After all, a single magpie, was bad luck, right?

Whilst I slept, I had the most vivid dream. The person that I was ending the relationship, that I had been writing a text to, was in my dream. His face was so very very vivid, and he held out his hand to me, smiled, and said just the words ‘trust me’. I glanced at my bedside clock, it was 8am. Although I had gone to sleep really angry and upset. I woke up and felt full of love for him. All my anger had gone. I just felt love.

As incident at the spiritualist church, was only a few weeks before, I was pretty stunned. However, my heart sank slightly when I later heard from him, that he had got home from the party at 11am.

‘Ah’ I said aloud to myself, well it couldn’t have been him, as he was out, and didn’t return home until later.

Later that day, I spoke to a friend who was also at the party. And I told her about the dream, but ended the conversation with, ‘well it couldn’t have been him, as he was out until 11am’ ….. ‘but, it felt so real’ I said. My friend was staring back at me.

‘What’? I said. She paused…. ‘Nikki’ she said. ‘It is true, he was out with us, and we didn’t get back until 11am. However, he had gone to sleep in the van, between 4am and 8am, and we were banging on the van window to wake him, we couldn’t wake him and so, yes, at the time you were asleep, so was he’.

I had also gone to sleep at 4am and woke at 8am.

Connecting to others in dreams

A months later, when the relationship once again ended. He had ended it, and said he would never speak to me again. I was once again devastated. I was also confused. As why did he come to me in the dream? Why the magpie tapping at the window, if we were not meant to be together? I was so confused, and so desperately wanted answers. Was he the right man for me, or not? If he wasn’t then why the dream?

So, that night I sat up, and tried to research about how we connect in dreams. But I could find little by using google to search the internet. At 5.30am, I was tired and fell asleep. Before I went to sleep, I said to aloud ‘Dear Angels, if it is true about our connections in dreams, please take me to HIM in my dream’.

I woke at 8am the next morning, and glanced at my phone. And there were 8 texts. Bleary eyed, I opened the messages. I was left open mouthed, by what I was reading. 8 texts had been left by him.

‘Please contact me, I have had the most vivid dream last night’

‘You were in my dream last night, me and you, there was a house, and a church, and we were so happy, we were going to get married’

‘I love you, I am so sorry I hurt you. You are the right person for me’

‘I can’t believe this dream, you were right in front of me, it felt so real’

All 8 texts said things of a similar nature. I couldn’t believe what I was reading. As I knew that he didn’t know that I had asked the angels to take me to him in my dreams.

Wake up a baby is born!

8 months after my daughter died, my daughter became pregnant with a little girl. She was born in July 2011. My daughter didn’t want me at the birth. She felt it would be easier if I wasn’t there. I was upset by this, but respected her wishes, as I knew that my own daughter had died the year before in the same maternity ward.

My daughter had been sick in pregnancy, and had been on crutches. She was worried that she hadn’t managed to clean. She asked me if I could go to her house to make sure that it was ready for the baby. I went to her house, and worked hard to make sure that it was clean. My daughter was induced and her labour was progressing well. I was absolutely exhausted, I had worked tirelessly to clean her house. I didn’t mean to, but I fell asleep.

I must have fallen asleep at around 2am. At 4.20am I woke suddenly. As I did, I texted my daughters birthing partner to ask ‘how is labour going’ ….. she replied ‘ah I was just about to text you, baby has just been delivered, only just. My grandaughter had came into the world at 4.20am. The same time that I was had woken suddenly

Wake up its time to say goodbye!

Three months later, my grandmother, who was 93, had been very ill, I had been visiting her every day for the last few days. I was never an early riser, and often woke late. On the 27th October 2011, I had been to visit my grandmother the night before, I had stayed there until 2am, so was very tired by the time I went home and went to bed.

However that morning, I woke at 5.45am. I got up wide awake, and went to the nursing home to see her. I was there just after 6am. I sat with my grandmother, and she died at 7.50am

Our death is already planned out…..and as time draws near – we remember!

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I had often thought that our lives are mapped out before us, before we are born. To choose the lessons in life that we need to learn, to grow for the spiritual growth that we need.

But what happened at death, I had little knowledge about.

My grandmother was 93 when she became sick in 2011. It was unfortunate, as my own daughter had died the previous year in 2010. Because of this, i had avoided my grandmother. I knew that she worried about me, if things were difficult for me. I loved her very much, and she meant a lot to me and so I didn’t want to be a burden to her.

Because of this, in 2010, and 2011, I called her less often and I saw her less often. This hurt her, but, I was trying to protect her. I didn’t want her to worry about me.

My father had said that my grandmother was sick and in the hospital. But, I couldn’t go. I had severe post traumatic stress disorder, and I couldn’t face hospitals. My grandmother was old skool, of a different generation. To her, babies died, and you got up and got on with it. it happened in her generation all the time.

Shortly before she died, I became concerned, as I was calling her and nobody answered her phone.

This particular day, I was so concerned that she hadn’t answered her phone, and I had tried to call her for more than a week. So, to check that she was ok, I called the manager of the nursing home she was living in. She told me that my grandmother had not been too well. But that they had now moved the phone right next to her bed, and so, if I called then she should pick up. She said that my grandmother had been waiting to hear from me.

My grandmother was the kindest, most caring person that you could ever meet. Everybody loved her. She had a good heart and a good spirit; she had a warm heart and she always made people laugh. This was just her way. No matter how ill she felt, she always had a good word to say, and was a joy to be around.

And so called her number again, and this time she answered.

But she was different with me. In a way I had never seen before. She wasn’t happy with me at all. She said ‘where have you been, I have been waiting for you’ . I hadn’t seen her for the last 6 weeks, as I couldn’t face the hospital, and I had some upsetting news, and I didn’t want her to worry about me.

This particular day on the phone, aside from saying ‘where have you been I have been waiting for you’ …. She was short and abrupt with me. She was bad tempered for the first time ever in my life. At the end of the conversation, she paused and then barked at me…. and Nicola, ‘yes’ I said…. ‘dont leave it so long next time’. She was firm. Her words were an order. She was telling me to get there Now. I couldn’t mistake the urgency in her voice.

The day was Saturday. I was looking after my granddaughter, so I couldn’t go in immediately. The very next morning I went in to see her. It was Sunday. I went with my granddaughter who was a 3 month old baby.

As i sat there, my grandmother was not happy with me. Or at least she just wasn’t herself. I wished that she could understand. I didn’t want her to be upset with me. She was staring to the left hand side of me, I looked at her, and she asked me who was stood next to me? Had she came with me? …. i said who? Looking around, there was nobody there, she pointed and said a lady with blonde hair. All the time, she was looking around as if she could see people.

I told her that there was nobody there. She said that she must be seeing things.

She then said with a sense of urgency, ‘get Elizabeth’…. who was her daughter, my aunt. My grandmother had two children, my father, and my aunt. She said it with such a sense of urgency that I panicked; i was scared that i would get things wrong.

I went out to the matron’s office and called my aunt. I told her that my grandmother needed her to come in. I came back into my grandmothers room, with her lying so still on her bed and I said to my grandmother, ‘do you want me to call dad’ I feared that she was about to die, and that I would get the blame if she did, if I hadn’t called him.

She looked at me, in a way i had never seen before, and barked at me ‘what’s it got to do with you, it’s nothing to do with you’ ….. I didn’t know what to say. I had never seen my grandmother this way before.

I left and went home. But was quite upset by how she was with me. And i felt sad. I didn’t understand, why was she being this way?

After that Sunday my grandmother went into fast decline. it was like she had been waiting for me. I went to the nursing home every day before work and after work to see her. On the Wednesday night I sat with her holding her hand, until probably 2am, she whispered to me, to go home. I tried to plead with her to please understand. I loved her very much.

I was never an early riser, yet, despite that, I woke at 5.30am the next morning. I was at the nursing home for 6am. There, i sat with her. My father and my brother were there with her when I got there, and they left for work, when my aunt got there.

We sat at either side of her bed and held her hand. I knew that she was suffering and in pain. I didn’t want her to suffer anymore. The manager of the nursing home said that she could be like this for days, she reassured my father before he went to work at 7.30am.

Sitting either sided of her, my aunt was emotional, and begged her not to go ‘please mum, please don’t go’, and ‘please don’t leave us’. I looked at my aunt, and looked at my grandmother.

I knew it was her time to go. I led the way, and said ‘it’s time to go now Nan, it’s time to put on your dancing shoes, to go up there to the greatest ballroom in the sky. Granddad is waiting for you, he is waiting for you to dance’ It’s time to go. My aunt followed my lead, and said ‘it’s time to go mum, go home to les, he is waiting for you’….

And with that, my grandmother died. In a way, it was a beautiful thing. It was like birth but in reverse. It was 7.50am on Thursday morning. Only 4 days after she had ordered me to come in.

You see, my grandmother had been waiting for me. I think that my grandmother already knew who would be with her when she died. She was old and tired and she was waiting to go home. But, she already knew before she died just how it would be. I thought how she was cross with me, when I said I would call my father. How she barked that it was nothing to do with me. How she asked me to call my aunt, and how she went into decline as soon as I visited. She just knew…..