THE ANATOMY OF A PSYCHOLOGICALLY
INCOMPETENT PERSON
By: Amy L. Chaves
January 28, 2001
To be married to a psychologically incompetent person is to experience hell piece by piece. It’s like walking in an arid dessert where all you see is an endless stretch of sand and you walk alone without direction because the exit signs have been removed. You feel you don’t belong and yet there is no way out. The loneliness engulfs you and weighs heavily like an albatross on your neck. You couldn’t breath, you couldn’t see, and you couldn’t feel anything except extreme restlessness, pain, anxiety, and hate that lay coiled inside.
Living with a psychologically incompetent person is like being trapped in a dark abyss that knows no end. The restlessness flutters in your heart like an unwelcome nightmare, the pain stabs like a knife when you least expect it, the anxiety embraces you like a dark unknown shadow, the hate you feel towards your tormentor is as palpable as your own skin. No one who has not lived with a psychologically incompetent person will ever know the depths of despair that a person has to go through every single day. I have known these depths for 20 years. I know how it feels to walk in an airless dessert without signs. I know the misery and the wretchedness that accompanies every tear shed. I should know. I married a psychologically incompetent person.
If there is any mistake I will forever have to reckon with, it is in marrying someone I didn’t know well enough. I was young, impetuous, and impulsive, a female rebel in mind, but a naiveté in heart. I thought that he did love me for he was obsessed with me, never wanting me out of his sight. I thought he was the best person to spend the rest of my life with, as he would always tell me he couldn’t live without me. I thought that love is more powerful than anything and that it can conquer all, as he would often say that we could have a world of our own where there’s just the two of us. But I was wrong. His masks were thick and varied. His looks hid scheming thoughts and his smile eclipsed ulterior motives. His exterior didn’t expose the state of his mind, a mind that cannot understand higher values like love, commitment, responsibility and fidelity.
Psychological incompetence is not about low I.Q. It’s about the inability of the person to conduct self-reflection in a deeper level, his failure to engage in an objective critical thinking, and his lack of ability to assess himself vis-à-vis others. It is a form of incapacity in understanding one’s responsibilities as a husband, father, and person and to behave accordingly. It is a distorted sense of relating to one's self and to others. It is seeing a mountain only at its mid-point and not seeing its top. So the psychologically incompetent person climbs the mountain but stops only at its mid-point, thinking that it’s already the top. Whatever cognitive problems might be associated with this inability is worth examining and researching for by the psychologists. It will help lawyers and judges form arguments and decisions in annulment cases here in the Philippines. As of now, I can only speak for myself based from my direct experience.
It took me about ten years to finally realize that I was not responsible for my marital woes. A few months after our marriage and several years later, he became insensitive, uncommunicative, morose, had several affairs with some women of questionable reputation, did some monkey business in his office which resulted in his dismissal, can’t seem to find a job after that, tried his luck in some businesses but always ended up bankrupt. Gradually I sensed his incapacity to love deeply and genuinely, his failure to establish a loving relationship with our children, and his lack of understanding of what it means to be a husband and a father. He would argue with me that right and wrong are only found in the books and that survival is the most important goal in life.
At first I thought that I did not do enough—I thought I was not loving enough, not caring enough, not patient enough, not trusting enough. I even thought that I was not sexual enough--not creative enough to experiment in the bedroom, not erotic enough to be sexually stimulating. I went to various family counselors and psychologists, thinking that maybe I was at fault—perhaps as an only child I have a problem; or maybe my mother was too overprotective; or maybe I was looking for a father image. I must have exhausted all the “maybes” in trying to locate the source of my marital problems. While doing all these search in various systems of thought and books, and agonizing over the possible causes of my marital anguish, I had to make both ends meet as I was the only one earning for fifteen years even until now. I have to work and be a mother and a father to my children at the same time.
As of this writing, I have finally found a way out from this barren dessert. I finally realized that imperfect as I am and painful as it is for all concerned, I had to get out from being trapped in this abyss and leave behind all the nightmares and the pains of this marriage. The exit door was in my filling for the nullity of my marriage. I didn’t deserve to be treated the way I was treated by my psychologically incompetent ex-husband. I didn’t want the weight of restlessness, pain, anxiety, and the hate I feel towards him as my tormentor, on my shoulders. Now I can see a rainbow in the horizon. I can breath now, thanks to the support of my children who are now grown-up, and the help from loyal friends who have seen how I suffered all these years.
I would not want any woman to go through the hell I’ve been through. I would not want any woman to suffer the same fate I had and be emotionally abused time and time again by the very person who is supposed to protect and care for her. I am going to describe, from my own experience, the anatomy of a psychologically incompetent person in the hope that any woman who may be thinking of marrying someone who nearly resembles the profile I give may think a hundred times before she decides to marry such a person. Or if it is unfortunate that such a woman has already married such a man whom she thinks is a psychologically incompetent person, my advise to her is to get out from the relationship as fast as she could by legal means—separation, annulment or divorce, whenever applicable. This advice is based on the presumption that she has already exhausted all the ordinary and extra-ordinary means in saving her own marriage and still there have been no results precisely because her husband is psychologically incompetent.
What are the characteristics of a psychologically incompetent person or a PIP? First of all, a PIP is narcissistic. He can only think of himself. His choices are not two-sided. He is only capable of choosing for himself and what appears to be good and beneficial only for himself. There is therefore the absence of the important dimension of “the other” in the PIP’s mental paradigm. The other person is only important if he/she is beneficial to him. In this context, the PIP is manipulative. He would manipulate conditions and persons so he could gain the greater advantage, the better leverage. As such he is a “user.” He uses people. He charms them, he tells them false stories, he concocts lies that will make others believe him. Making people believe in him is the PIP’s favorite sport. It boosts his ego no end whenever people begin to believe in him—no matter if these people are prostitutes, swindlers or gold-diggers—the PIP would go to such great length, even if he were to engage in half-truths or absolute lies, just so he could persuade people to believe in him.
Due to the PIP’s narcissism, he is incapable of real loving. He thinks he loves but his end is always to pay homage to himself. The other person is just a conquest, heightening his sense of self-aggrandizement and self-worth. Don Juan typifies the PIP’s incapacity to love. He woes women to make them fall in love with him. The smooth lines, the superb speech, the romantic gestures—the PIP is good with these for he knows the ways to a woman’s heart. But once the woman is his, the conquest ends. He starts another conquest and the same strategies are applied and the cycle of manipulation and exploitation begins.
The PIP is inept at making any real commitment. His narcissism prevents him from establishing a permanent relationship. He loves himself too much he could not afford to bind himself to another person and to pledge fidelity. Fidelity is something that is foreign in the PIP’s vocabulary. Not only does he not understand it, he has no psychological means of attaining it in his relationships with women. He is too self-absorbed to even think of what fidelity entails. He promises to be faithful but is unable to do so. He tells lies to appear committed in a relationship when in fact he is already scheming on how to win his next conquest.
A second characteristic of a PIP is that of dependency. We all have dependency needs. We need someone in our life to love, to have fun with, to go home to, and to spend the rest of our life with. But the PIP’s dependency is parasitic. He cannot live without a person to whom he could cling. Deep down in the heart of a PIP is a terribly insecure person who constantly seeks attention. He hangs on to a relationship even if the other person in that relationship no longer wants him. He would use all tactics to stifle the person’s freedom. His maneuverings include the simple “I can’t live without you” phrase to the more complex and devious means to prevent the other person from leaving the relationship—he would cajole, threaten, and use legal and extra-legal means to erect invisible chains so the other person could not leave. He stifles growth. He stifles freedom. In a way, the PIP is a leech. He therefore loses the important elements he needs the most from the other person—love, trust and respect. In the very act of wanting to have it all, he loses it all. The PIP cannot gain the love, trust and respect of the other person that would have saved him from a hollow life. But since the PIP cannot know what real love is, he loses the opportunity of being loved. Since the PIP cannot know the meaning of fidelity, he is unable to find someone who will be loyal to him and to give him the gift of trust. And since he is manipulative and abusive he loses the respect of the other person.
The third characteristic of a PIP is that of irrational obsession. He maybe obsessed with his mistress such that he spends most of his time with her to the detriment of both of them. He becomes a shadow to the person he is obsessed with that no room for growth and nurturance are possible except to become addicted to each other. Their world contracts. There is no social expansion as this is seen to be a threat to their relationship. Or he maybe obsessed with a particular project for months or even years and yet not getting any positive results. My ex-husband spent every single morning for almost two years, going to the Cogon market to gather the unused pineapple crowns from pineapple vendors and bring them to various places just to rot. His dream is to have a pineapple plantation and yet he didn’t plant pineapples.
The fourth characteristic of a PIP is that of a very low self-esteem. He is a quivering mass of insecurity. He cannot be comfortable with anyone who is better than him in some aspects as he is immediately dwarfed by the seeming superiority of the other. What really bothers the PIP are people who are intelligent, articulate, assertive, suave, and successful in their chosen field. He would be willing to befriend people of low mentality for as long as they will not make him feel insecure. Never mind if his friends are from the slum areas or people of dubious character. It will make him appear philanthropic, that he cares for these people, when in fact he simply wants to feel superior. An intelligent and assertive woman who is married to a PIP will have problems adopting. There are times she may want to appear a moron just to placate the ego of the PIP and make him feel superior. But this is never going to work, as an intelligent woman can never suspend her intelligence for the sake of some insecure PIP for a husband.
The fifth characteristic of a PIP is that of amorality. His mind cannot elevate itself to the level of conscience and morality. He thinks he has a conscience when he gives alms or when he distributes clothes to some needy people. But he has no qualms about usurping the property of some people, thinking that it will earn him a fast buck. He considers having a mistress as all right as many men also have mistresses. He reasons it is normal for a woman to have an affair for as long as she keeps it under wraps. For a PIP it is not wrong to steal provided he is not caught. He believes fatherhood is only biological. Since the PIP cannot engage in deep reflection and critical thinking, right and wrong for him are relative, depending on his needs, whim and caprice. He doesn’t see right as right and wrong as wrong but sees them in a distorted way. Usually, he sees what is right as wrong and what is wrong as right. He finds it difficult to conform to certain standards of right or wrong actions unless conforming would give him a fair advantage.
In the objective sense, the PIP is really pathetic. He lies, manipulates, uses and abuses people while slowly leaving footprints of deception and subterfuge behind every human encounter he has. Ultimately, people would no longer believe him. They will leave, one by one, from his association. He loses the very things he wants in life—love, trust, respect, and admiration. As his reputation suffers, so does his ego. And the more his ego suffers, he becomes all the more psychologically incompetent. When he feels his world is slowly crumbling, he clings—never mind if he uses immoral or illegal means. When he wants to feel powerful, he abuses—never mind if he is unfair or he makes another individual suffers. When he lacks material comfort, he uses—never mind if he steals openly from another person.
The PIP is a pitiful mass of humanity who cannot recognize that in order for him to experience love, trust, respect, and admiration, he must first of all be loving, trustworthy, respectful, and attentive to others. He is pathetic because he cannot make that climb to the top of the mountain and view the world for all its worth. He cannot see the light—just its flicker. He cannot see goodness—just its shadow. He cannot experience real love—just its imitation.
I am sorry that I married a psychologically incompetent person. I am sorry for myself and for having spent years trying to improve something that never was and never will be. I am sorry for my sons. They will never know the deep love and care of a father. I am sorry for all the other people that may have been hurt and used by my ex-husband; I hope they have learned their lessons too. I made some mistakes as well, for which I am sorry. I made the mistake of trusting too early in a relationship. I made the mistake in believing that all persons are inherently good and moral. I made the mistake in thinking that love is all that is necessary in a relationship for it to grow and deepen. I made the mistake of loving even when I was already used and abused. I tolerated my ex-husband’s immoral activities, thinking that he will change for the better.
I often tell my students in Philosophy that their best teachers are those who hurt them the most. Perhaps my ex-husband has been one of my best teachers. He showed me what hell was like and now I know how to appreciate ordinary things and consider them special. After living in hell, which he created for me, now I see glimpses of heaven and eternity. He showed me a barren dessert and now I see gardens of flowers and heavens full of rainbows and stars. In my years of suffering I learned all the more the importance of loving with all my heart; of being honest and open; of being faithful; of being myself; of loving without conditions; of being good and moral; of living and considering people as special, unique and irrevocable. In a significant way, my experiences with my ex-husband have purified my motives and elevated my soul to greater heights. In all honesty, I could say that in spite of all the pains and wretchedness, all is well in my world. I am still me—I am not a lost soul. I still have my self-respect. All the more, I can still look at myself in the mirror and say that I am proud of what I have become as a person—wiser, stronger, and more loving.
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