Peter’s Story
Section One - Episode Four
Cynthia Revisited - and again, and again!
Continuing on with the version of the story written in October-November 1998,
for self-therapy purposes.....
Meanwhile, back on the personal scene, the “Big R” with Cynthia was staggering along in an incredibly dysfunctional manner.....
At this period of my life, I really and truly believed that we were “meant for each other”, etc, etc, etc.
Cynthia would disappear from contact for a time, anything from a few weeks to months, and then contact me again by letter or telephone, telling me that she was so sorry, she must be crazy. “You are the only man who has ever really loved me! Please forgive me! (And oh, by the way, I am broke and desperate, can you please help with some money?)”
And guess what, every time yours truly really believed that “This time it will be different”. Just like the battered wife in the abusive relationship, I could not see through the delusion. I just had to keep going back for more and more punishment.
I can remember many times going to collect the mail from my Post Office box, and upon seeing a letter from her, having to rush back to my car and use the bottle of Rescue Remedy from the glove-box before opening the letter. Whenever a letter arrived, or the telephone rang, I would never know whether it would be “Oh darling, how can I ever live without you?”, or “You bloody bastard, I never want to see you again!”
Cynthia had a talent of what most people would call a “psychic ability”. She could see the energy field (or “aura”) around people, and she often had flashes of past-life recall. Early in our relationship, she told me about the two of us being together in former lives (I now know that this information was basically true, but very unhelpful to me at the time).
She also told me (at times when she was in her “I cannot live without you” mode) about seeing us together in future lives, and how blissful it would be in these wondrous times together in the future. To someone like me who, at this time, was very unhappy and ignorant, and who had no real understanding of spiritual reality, this “future life stuff” served as a giant hook to hold me in her power. All she had to do was pull on the string and I was as helpless as a hooked fish.
Twice during this period, in a relatively sane moment, Cynthia confessed to me that she had made up the stuff about future lives together, but then later she would talk about this stuff as if it was real. She herself was unable to tell delusion from reality, and as for me, I was so hooked that I would have believed anything she said.
This peculiar at-a-distance relationship staggered on for about a year. In this time we saw each other in person only three times: we once spent a day together in Napier (a glorious hot day in October 1992), I visited her at her house once in March 1993 (a seven hour drive each way from Wellington), and we spent Easter 1993 together in the Coromandel area. Most of the drama was conducted over the telephone and by letter.
Through all of this, Cynthia was insisting that we be absolutely secret about our relationship. Her children and her parents were not to know, neither was I to tell some mutual friends of ours. She was paranoid about anyone finding out that we had been in contact with each other. She insisted that I should destroy the photographs that I had taken of her at our meetings.
Betrayal!
The final end came on 25 July 1993. Cynthia telephoned me and screeched down the phone accusing me of having sexually abused her daughter during our living together relationship in Nelson. This was the absolute rock bottom for me. I fell into a bottomless abyss.
But it was also the defining point of my whole life. It was the equivalent to the alcoholic who wakes up one day penniless in the gutter. It was my “rock bottom”, my personal hell on earth. I had no choice now, I had to do something to change myself. I finally had no choice but to face up to the fact that there was something very seriously wrong here. Why was I attracting experiences like this?
Once the initial shock wore off, and I became more-or-less semi-functional, I decided that I was going to sort myself out once-and-for-all, starting now, no matter what was needed, no matter what it cost, and no matter where it took me. And hence started my real journey, on my path of self-discovery and finding the truth….....
Click here to continue on with Episode One of the next section of this (1998 version) of this story......
“The Journey”
