I spent the good part — the bad part, if you will — of eighteen years with a sociopath beside me. On many occasions, I found myself wondering, “Whatever was he thinking?” I experienced numerous “red flag” moments. I didn’t see them as other than just plain odd. I didn’t put the pieces together at the time strange things happened. I shrugged the vague unrest away, unwilling to think the unthinkable, unable to visualize the unexpected. I couldn’t put the pieces of the puzzle together until long after the incidents occurred.
When I could not make sense of these instances in my own mind, I would probe for an explanation. In retrospect, my probing was too gentle. Each explanation led me to more confusion. I received no satisfactory answers. I ended each episode with more unanswered questions, and a deeper sense that something wasn’t right.
My rational mind prodded me to investigate and not to turn a blind eye to his inconsistencies. My emotional self would not allow me to do that. I had physical symptoms including stomach pain, warnings such as the bristling of the hairs on the nape of my neck. My intuition prodded me not to turn a blind eye, but for the longest time, I did just that. It was as if I suspected a monster lived in the closet, but if I never opened the closet door, no one else would know. I cannot point to a specific moment in time when suspicion piled up past believing. But such a time did arrive, and I couldn’t rationalize his strange behavior, could no longer give him the benefit of the doubt. I reached that point where my rational and emotional selves merged in protest to his lies. I would no longer allow him to make me feel guilty for questioning him. I could no longer live on trust. From that point forward, I walked a fragile line, aware that if I probed too openly he would become suspicious and stop communicating entirely. I did not want to kill the messenger until the message became clear.
During this time we lived together in several different towns. An uncomfortable knowledge was building in my mind. My heart told me that to ignore these continuing red flag moments would have devastating effects down the line. But it was always “somewhere down the line.” We continued our own fragile personal dance. There were little dots of information from things he said or comments from those around him. I tried to connect the dots but wouldn’t let my mind see purpose in the results.
Then came the phone call — the one that none of us could ever be prepared for, the one that, in an instant, propels you into a living nightmare. The phone call opened the closet door of the sociopath beside me, and his hidden dirty little secrets tumbled into the daylight. Secrets that weren't even supposed to see the light of day. It took all my courage to hear these secrets. It frightened me that I had missed the signs. How could I have missed them? How could I have been so blind? And most frightening of all was the idea that I had allowed his reign of psychological terror by refusing to see the signs.
I began my quest to know the painful truth of each occurrence and how each incident began. I continue this so you might recognize the sociopath beside you.
Chapter One — THE SOCIOPATH
It has been estimated that one in twenty-five Americans has shown sociopathic behavior. Despite its frequency, most of us know nothing of that behavior, nor are we aware of sociopaths in our society. This is the sociopath’s greatest advantage. He is invisible.
These individuals are afflicted with what is defined as an “antisocial personality disorder.” “Antisocial” means simply “against society. “ The true sociopath’s only agenda and main source of his twisted gratification is manipulating those in his path to do as he requires. That’s his game. And game it is, with us as pawns as he seeks personal gratification, regardless of the cost to others. His capabilities are monstrous.
He does not follow societies “norms”, and is incapable of playing by the rules. He has no rules, nor can he recognize other’s rules. He does not have a conscience. Thus, he has no brake on socially unacceptable behavior, no boundary past which he dare not go. The sociopath lacks a moral compass. He cannot experience guilt. He knows no remorse. His life is simply endless sinister manipulation of others to feed his own ego.
When confronted with a sociopath’s random acts of cruelty, all you can expect is the unexpected. And of course that can’t be done. Only in retrospect is the unexpected visible. You are forced to think the unthinkable. That can’t be done as well, except in the light of retrospection. A sociopath has no emotional attachment to others. He has no empathy, no compassion. He lives in emotional disconnect with others, his mind acknowledging nothing but personal goals. He cannot accept responsibility for dishonorable actions, but finds great personal satisfaction in causing others to suffer emotional pain. Simply put, the sociopath cannot accept or even understand the concept of personal responsibility.
He lives a loveless existence, unable and unwilling to bond with another being. He is incapable of gratitude or loyalty toward anyone. His quest in life is to meet his agenda of the moment, without regard for others, indeed, with contempt for his victims.
Individuals with severe personality disorders rarely improve. With no capacity for self awareness, they most often aren’t salvageable. Rehabilitation is a myth.
The sociopath becomes more antisocial with the passing of time. Through years of practice, his manipulation techniques become increasingly more refined and sophisticated. Eventually he regards himself as smarter than everyone else. He becomes increasingly brazen and callused. He knows he will never be caught. This is his game. You are his game-piece. There are no boundaries, no rules to a macabre game that increases in intensity and becomes more disturbing every time you’re forced to play.
Chapter Two — DARK SOUL
Your intuition
is your window
into another’s soul…
When I first met Marvin I was drawn into his web by his level of intelligence and charismatic charm. His aptitude to articulate was well executed and skillful, nearly flawless, and superior to most 26 year olds. Regardless of the circumstances or the timing, he appeared to never be caught off-guard or at a loss for just the right set of discriminating words to bestow upon the listener; illustrating his gifted "silver tongue" and razor sharp mind.
Without fail, he seemed to be able to charm others to obtain his desired outcome; the ability to mold both people and situations as if they were putty in his hands. It was unusual for someone of his then young age to not only possess these special qualities, but to have mastered them in such a way, that in combination, they orchestrated compliance from his intended target and struck a sense of awe in any observer.
Marvin portrayed the uncanny ability to weave the qualities of impeccable articulation and disarming charm into a carefully woven trap, much like the network of webs spun by a spider, designed for the entanglement of his prey. He was a smiling, gracious, danger.
At the time, it seemed harmless enough as I was totally unaware of his hidden personality traits or sinister, self-serving, agenda. He was a sales representative, and seemed to have the uncanny ability to sell ice to Eskimos. Unfortunately he became part of my inner circle for the next eighteen years, a then budding sociopath. For most of those eighteen years, I didn’t recognize the sociopath beside me. The daily routine seemed for the most part, right. I saw nothing out of the ordinary early in our life together. I suspected nothing.