Short Story of My Life.
In my life the earliest memory I have is when I was around three, all I really remember is my mother’s boyfriend beating her up. It’s a rather vague memory but after hearing things later about that night I figured out what I was remembering. After that its very vivid memories of random physical and sexual abuse from ages 5-9 by family members and friends of the family. Developmentally speaking I’m sure that that in itself screwed a few things up in my mind as a child. Like becoming sexually active way too early, thinking sexual relations among family was normal when it’s not, a basic mistrust for adults, and a feeling that my parents couldn’t protect me in their own home. Over time I just kept to myself which lead to my parents thinking there was something wrong with me. So a few psych trips later I was an ADDH kid on Ritalin. This was when I was about 9 years old in 4th grade, so I was already a loner somewhat and this just topped it off. I became what many other kids became, a zombie, I went to school stared straight ahead, went to lunch, ate very little seeing as Ritalin makes your appetite pretty much nonexistent and then the rest of the day went on the same way. This went on for a while my sister got all the attention I only got attention when I got in trouble, no one liked me at least not enough to be my friend, self pitying I know but that’s not the point. When I got in to junior high things barely changed aside from discovering pot, skipping school, and learning that hanging out with pot heads who don’t really like you is a good way to get stitches from random Flint beatings. When my mother got in an accident which required back surgery she couldn’t handle living with me anymore during recovery so I went to North Dakota to live with my grandmother. It was nice she would pay attention to me, buy me new clothes, and cared about what I had to say. Though habits are hard to break, after a while I was hanging out with the wrong kids again getting high and ditching school. Then I found out that I was actually quite a good thief. My step cousin and I would go to the mall when we could, rent a lock then fill it up with stolen items as the day went on then went home. I didn’t last long though because I got cocky and got caught and then sent back to Michigan. That’s just a broad over view of my school years.
When I was old enough to realize I didn’t have to take the Ritalin anymore(9-10) and could do whatever I want I stopped taking them. Then around age 11-12 I discovered that all these bad things people said were bad never made me feel bad at all. I was a thief from the age of 8-16, a pyromaniac from 6-present, and had an unhealthy sexual appetite from 10-13 years old. So yeah I had problems, my parents never found out about most of it except the pyromania when I burnt a bowling ball sized hole in the carpet when I was 8. But none of this ever made me feel bad or guilty or shameful. I could get out of trouble by playing stupid, lying, crying, or just blaming someone else. Around the age of 13 I got some friends which looking back weren’t my friend’s just kids I hung around with who didn’t really like me very much because I was strange to them. I guess I understand why, I was a very weird child. I thought everyone cared about me and said off things often, I never made any plans I actually kept and spent most of my time with girls. One memory comes back that show how little my male friends cared about me, I was trying to pop a wheelie on my “friends” bike I fell and he came to make sure the bike was ok not me. With my female friends things were much easier as far as getting them to like me, I played on their emotions when I could and dated them often but I always broke up with them in a way that didn’t make them not want to be my friend, which was the point because if I lost one then I would lose them all. I did this at many schools until I was about 16 then I lost interest in dating because it had become boring. During this period of boredom I found my fun again, my 12 year old next door neighbor Jared who became my best friend and a very apt pupil. In him I saw someone I could teach and mold into whatever I wanted him to be. This proved difficult mainly because he had an older brother already and what he took from both of us were conflicting messages. I wanted him to be like me, his brother wanted him to be happy, and in a way so did I. This went on for about 5 years till it seemed there was nothing more I could teach him that he would accept. So we then became just friends, no manipulation, no lectures just friends. Until I had sex with his girl friend in 2006, he was going to break up with her and still be friends with me but she wormed her way back into the door and we actually lived together for about 3 months, then I went away to school. During this time he started to hate me for betraying him and our relationship dissolved. We saw each other a few more time infrequently but never got back on good terms. As far as female relationships go I had an affair with a 42 year old when I was 16 which up to that point was the most meaningful relationship I had ever had. In college I had 2 one year relationships that were great until they ended. The first break up was my fault and the second one wasn’t, she said she didn’t love me which I can understand because almost all she saw from me were lies so that I could keep her and not scare her. I wonder if I will ever find another woman who can love me that I in turn can love. It’s depressing to think that I will never have a woman that I can love. Though even when I was with my girlfriends when love came up and I would feel around for that warm feeling when they said they loved me, all I came up with was the same cold emptiness I always do. Except for one time when my last girlfriend Tyler said she loved me, for the first time I felt it, it filled me up and for the first time in my life I felt whole. But that was the only time and I don’t know why.
A book I read called the sociopath next door is written by Harvard doctor Martha Stout ,who seems to know her stuff, is filled with a lot of information that reminds me of me. Though some of the things she says like sociopaths cant love give me pause, cant I love? I honestly don’t know, though I do feel nothing when people tell me they love me and almost never mean it when I say to people even my parents. I don’t know maybe in that way I am broken though I hope not. Other things in her book are just disturbing, she regards all of us as a plague upon the normal happy people and goes through a list of how people can weed us out and avoid us. I get this more than most of my kind would, we can be very dangerous, but so can normal people. Was Jim Jones a sociopath no he was just nuts I’m sure he was something but a sociopath? No. I may be part of the 5 percent of the country that people fear, but should people fear me, I don’t think so. She lists off the worst stories of demented sociopaths that to me seems like fear mongering instead of informing. When reading her book it almost seems like she has a bias against sociopaths, maybe one of us hurt her sometime ago, I don’t know but there is anger there I think. She focuses on the conscience as the defining symptom of sociopathy. I have to ask what’s so great about a conscience, to have something that limits you and tells you no inside your head. Do I want a conscience? Not really, I have lived a long time without causing major damage to another human being without one.
So many questions come up when people try to find out what makes people in sociopaths. Is it their development, the nurture, or is it simply bred in. I told you my story maybe you could find something that you think triggered it but I have looked and I cannot. I believe I was born this way and after 24 year I know I cannot change I have tried so many times. I have been hospitalized in the psych ward 5 times, nothing ever changes no matter the medication or the therapy. Which is the case with all sociopaths, no one can fix us. One thing that I don’t think anyone has ever touched on is the sociopaths, like me, that control their urges ,that fight our very nature day after day to fit in with the rest of you. For me it hurts to be alive physically and mentally, I can’t not think of what you would think of as the most taboo things and sometimes I want to do those things but don’t. A good analogy is think of yourself in the desert, your starving and thirsty and in front of you is a buffet with all your favorite foods and drinks but you can never eat or drink these things. So you’re forced to wander the wasteland in search of other foods and drinks, and they are out there but none of them ever quench your thirst or slate your hunger, and every day you can see the buffet teasing you from a distance. I know why sociopaths commit terrible crimes because it feels good but I know what happens to them, prison, death, or a few lucky ones get away with it. I love myself and I’m not risking getting locked up. Do I care about most other people, no I do not. People may fear us but we can’t change that anymore then we can change ourselves.