The Showdown
The showdown all started through a text message. I had texted Mr. Charm in regards to a meet up we we had planned so that I could help him with some things around his house. I texted him because I had not heard from him about the timing of it all. He responded in a way that seemed to me to be aloof compared to his usual responses to me. In other words, it was not in the normal way that he responded to me at all. I cannot explain how I knew his response was off, but I just knew.
Empathically, I can always tell the emotions behind text messages. It is just something I know, and to date, I have never been wrong about what I have discerned behind someone’s emotions through typed text. I can always tell the feelings behind words. It never fails. It may be that I have just had so much experience deciphering the games that narcissists or people with toxic tendencies play that makes me hypersensitive. I just know that I know when something is off even with printed word messages, then something is definitely off.
Anyway, it was clear to me that something was wrong with Mr. Charm based on how he worded his responses to me through texts. I could tell that he was angry, and if he were not angry, then I could tell he had a negative attitude towards me. When I finally questioned whether something was wrong, he responded with sarcasm. When he hinted at something that I had said about him hating women from long ago, I immediately knew he was angry. I felt within my nervous system that something was way off, and I instinctively knew that words had been shared about me behind my back that helped to change any positive views he had of me against me.
Maybe it is just my personality, but I am not one for playing manipulative games. Despite whatever my fears are, I will not back away from confrontation. Although I do no like confrontation, I will not back away from it when I feel a need to deal with a nagging issue. This situation with Mr. Charm was nagging me. I was bothered by what appeared to me to be a sudden change in even his often crazymaking behavior. I knew this is the way he wanted it. I knew that he knew that I would not let up until I confronted the situation. It was easier for him to allow me to address the “elephant in the room”. His texts were meant to bring me to him so that I could be blamed for creating a showdown to his madness.
Be that it may have been to my own detriment, I did not care. I was sick of his childish games. I knew that I would get nowhere with back-and-forth text messages with him. In fact, his refusal to accept my calls was the final clue to his anger. I do not know what had occurred between the good times that we seemed to be having up to this point, but I was certain it had something to do with his church. He had been hinting around to issues for quite a while. Plus, he had a meeting with the church leaders regarding his letter. Because I wanted deal with this situation head-on, I made my way over to his home.
As soon as I arrived, he was outside on the steps. It was as if he had been waiting for me even though he acted as if he was surprised to see me. It was as if he had to center himself. He smiled at me as he normally did, but then I watched as he seemed to remember that he should be angry with me. I do not know why I felt that there were outside coercive forces involved with his behavior, but that is what I immediately discerned. My mind went into a quick prayer, and all I could manage to feel in that moment was that I needed to pay close attention to his behavior.
When I got out of the car, he greeted me in the jovial way he always did when I arrived to his home. This behavior confused me. His text messages seemed angry, but there I was looking at a “happy” person. Despite what I visibly saw, I was not playing the games. I walked up to him and looked him straight in his eyes and said, “Cut the bull! Is there something wrong with you?” He took a step back using his eyes but without actually physically moving. I could tell he was attempting to be careful with the use of his words. Instead of addressing my question, however, he talked about washing his car. “I’m fine,” he said. He mentioned wanting to get started before the rain. He was lying. For one, the sky was blue.
Needless to say, the topic seemed quickly changed as if to throw me off. I helped him to wash his car all while analyzing the scenery. I was thinking and having a silent conversation within myself at a rapid speed of a mile per second. Something was definitely up, and I could feel it. Something was on the horizon, and I could sense the steady but invisible movement of something ominous approaching me. When we were done with his car, we proceeded inside of his house. He had been silent much of the time to the point that I could tell that something was wrong. So I decided to just face the silent elephant in the room and deal with whatever it was that was going on underneath the proverbial rug.
Me: “As much as you claim that nothing is wrong, I don’t believe you. I get the feeling that you are upset. I say this because your text responses seemed to have an angry tone.”
Him: “Oh. So you wanna do this now?”
Me: “Do what now? Have a discussion? Talk about why you are behaving like you’re angry? Yes.”
Him: “I’ve been thinking about leaving the church.”
I was silent for a moment but then grappled with the thought that he was finally seeing the light of truth. Despite his revelation, I watched his facial expressions and took in the energy I felt within the atmosphere. Although he might have been thinking about leaving his church, I was not convinced of this.
Me: “That’s good, isn’t it?”
Him: “I think the devil has been speaking to me. I think the devil wants me to leave the church.”
Me: “What?”
Him: “I think that all this time I have been hearing the devil speak to me about leaving the church. I thought God was leading me, but I think it’s been the devil.”
I was not sure where this conversation was going, but I did not have a good feeling. Although I had never uttered the words to him that he should leave his church, I did point out on numerous occasions how the church had very cultish ways that were unscriptural. I also pointed out the examples of spiritual abuse that he described that many others I knew had experienced as well – including myself. I never initiated these conversations with him. I would always allow him to bring up the topic, and any time he mentioned church occurrences, I would mention what I thought might be relevant information for him to know.
However, he refused to hear any further of these instances though. He described those instances as not being his experience even though everything he recounted about his time at this church sounded all so eerily similar to what I had either experienced or seen others go through. He reminded me of someone else I had talked to about what was going on in that church years prior who had no intentions of leaving because she was blinded by deception. Here I was once again staring what I believed to be another deceived person in the face who had enough information regarding the truth about spiritual abuses that he, himself, had experienced, but was acting as if he was unaware of any abuse.
Even though I could see the truth for what it was, I could not tell him what to do though. He had to make his own decision. If he asked me for advice, I would give it. Yet, the decision to leave or stay was all up to him. I had learned from experience that a person has to make up his or her own mind when it comes to religion and spirituality. They must make up their own minds about life in general. Despite pointing out all of the obvious dangers that I saw in Mr. Charm’s pathways regarding that church, I could not make him leave. If he wanted to stay, he was going to stay. At least I had shared with him what I knew to be true. It would not be my fault if he chose to remain despite the warnings.
In fact, I already knew enough about his weaknesses to know that he was heavily indoctrinated within the realm of that church. I do not even think that he realized how brainwashed he was at the time. I had been there and done that and could clearly see it. Even though he was upset with the leader’s son, that situation was not enough to make him leave. He was trauma bonded to that church institution, and that was very clear to me. Based on the wording he used to describe his thoughts, I knew there had already been some talk. Much of his wording hinted at me being the problem. Since I experienced being branded as a “devil” by these same leaders in years past, I was more than likely the devil of his current story.
Him: “Ever since I confided in you about my situation with Pastor’s son, there has been nothing but trouble.”
Me: “Your issues with your pastor’s son have nothing to do with me. I’m not a member. Besides, what you shared with me, I shared with no one else. So, I’m wondering how you’ve had nothing but trouble if what was between you and me stayed between you and me. You did share with [his lady friend] about this issue as well. What’s to say she didn’t go behind your back and talk to someone about it?”
Him: “She’s not the problem. You are! They do not believe you are a good influence.”
Me: “That figures.”
I laughed.
Him: “They believe that you are causing division.”
Me: “Seems like ‘they’ think I have a lot of power. Who are ‘they’ anyway?”
Him: “Don’t play dumb! I hate when you do that. They believe that you and my family just don’t understand the truth about the church. The pastor believes that as we try to grow holy, others will try to distract us and keep us from our mission. We aim to be the holiest church in town.”
My eyes were rolling, and my mind was spinning. I burst out laughing. I could not believe he was serious, but I took another look at him and saw that he was undeniably serious about what he was saying.
Me: “What now? Come again? I don’t think I heard you correctly. Did you say holiest church in town? If that’s the aim now? Holy?!? They have a long way to go.”
Him: “You are an apostate just like Pastor said!”
Me: “Wow! BUT! I’m the same apostate that your pastor thought would make you a good friend when we were overseas [on the trip]. What changed?”
Him: “I think you’d like to see me out of that church. You don’t even have direction for your own life. You’re holding onto the past.”
Me: “You don’t even know my past because you have never bothered to listen to me long enough for me to share it.”
Him: “Pastor told me about you and all the others. You’re lost. You don’t even attend a church. You could come back to our church if you’d deal with the hate you have for the pastor.”
Me: “Is that what she told you? Or is that you thinking for yourself? I don’t hate that pastor. I never have. I was hurt by that pastor and many of those church members. It’s more like the other way around. Your pastor knows that I can see through the bull, and that’s more the problem. I’m not lost just because I don’t attend church either. As far as I can see, I’ve found a lot more truth since I left church, and it’s enough truth that you took back to them so they could research. I can’t be that lost. The problem is they can’t control me, and as long as I’m around you, they are afraid they can’t keep control of you either. “
Him: “Nobody controls me! I think for myself!”
Me: “Sure you do, but here we are with you saying you thought God was telling you to leave the church, but now it’s the devil. Do you know who’s talking to you? Are you thinking clearly? Are you really thinking for yourself? Sounds like someone else’s influence to me.”
I shook my head. As I looked at him, I realized that he was brainwashed … that he had taken their bait – hook, line, and sinker. He was what Proverbs would signify as a fool. Just as with narcissists, there is no talking to a fool. There is no gaining any sense from a conversation with a fool either. Instead of stopping the discussion, however, I carried on. I was highly annoyed and felt provoked by an attack of my character.
Me: “If nobody controls you, then you would have never had an issue with the pastor’s son. You would have done what you said you would have originally done because you are a man. But NO! You didn’t do a thing. Instead you took my suggestion about writing a letter. You didn’t think for yourself there either. You waited for me to come to the rescue when you should have handled it yourself instead of blaming me when things didn’t go the way you thought they would.”
As I turned to walk away, I felt the motion of Mr. Charm’s body lunge forth towards me. When I turned to look at him, he had actually backed away from me into a corner with a look of shock on his face. There was a crazed look in his eyes. There was an unhinged look of rage he exhibited that I had never seen before. He was so angry that his body seemed to contort and freeze in place. In those few moments, I knew that if he could have come for me, he would have done so.
Him: “You’re always causing trouble! Are you happy now? You think you know God, but you don’t. You are a blind fool. People like you will have what’s coming to them if they aren’t careful. You are no Christian! You are the devil. I heard what they said about you, and you are not of God.”
The air in the room was filled with the stench of fine-tuned hate. The atmosphere was so thick from his emotional rage, I could hardly breath. I was stunned into shock. His words hurt me on a deep level. My feet could not move. I looked at him and surely saw an invisible haze of venom spewing from his mouth. His face was red from burning hot anger, and the whites of his eyes appeared red. His pupils were dilated dots of black coal. I did not know this person before me. Mr. Charm had disappeared.
Him: “Get the hell out of my house! I’m driving you out in Jesus’ name! Get the hell out of my house!”
He yelled other explicative comments at me while also calling me horrible names. I stared in disbelief. I felt the force of something else that propelled me with inward panic. I felt myself lose a sense of reality. It was as if I could feel myself being sucked into a tunnel by an invisible vacuum. From that moment, sounds became muffled and the passage of time seemed to move slowly. I looked around the room and could see disheveled books and papers strewn about. I could also hear the shattering of glass. Then suddenly, I found myself moving my body with such an intensity as if to save my life from the terror I did not know that was coming towards me.
Although Mr. Charm was still standing in the corner of the room, I felt that he had been held there by some force for my own protection. The sounds I heard of things being thrown were in another realm. The rage that I saw in Mr. Charm’s eyes did not appear human. It was a rage I had seen before but when I was a child. In fact, I knew the rage Mr. Charm had displayed all too well, and I knew with a certainty that I needed to leave his presence quickly without uttering another word. As I turned to move, I remember the sounds around me becoming more muffled as if I was in a dream. The sounds made me feel as if I were in a distant land. The place felt so distant to where it felt like I was moving through a small tunnel to enter into another dimension.
Once outside of Mr. Charm’s house, I briskly walked to my car. Once my door was shut, I saw Mr. Charm appear on his back steps. I could tell by the movement of his mouth and his physical stance that he was shouting. He was leaning on a cane. Even though I rolled down my window to hear, I could not hear him through what sounded like guttural screams. He was shouting so profusely that I could not make out any of his words. He was that angry. He was explosively angry. There was no point in entertaining further discussion. We were done. I sped from his property as if my life depended on it because in those moments I not only saw the danger, I felt the danger. If I thought this was the final discard, I had no idea that he had a final showdown planned for my demise.
Stay tuned for the finale to this story with Mr. Charm.
My Voice Unchained 