Sociopaths and children

A reader asked what I would do if I had a child. My response:

I think sociopaths tend to like children more than they like adults. I do. You can be relatively honest, even authentically nice to children. Children don't have the same expectations of you. Children aren't secretly judging you for being "off." You don't have to wear a mask around children. You can be yourself and, if anything, they will think that you are funnier and a better playmate than most adults. Although, speaking of playmates, children of a certain age sometimes have difficulty telling whether I am considered an adult or a child by society's standards because I don't fit the typical adult behavior patterns.

Even though I like kids generally, I find certain children to be completely intolerable. It can be very difficult dealing with these children because they behave so selfishly and unreasonably. If it were just up to me, no problem, I could just ignore or terrorize them to get them to stop. But a lot of the time other adults (typically their parents) will placate them in ways that tend to put you out. It's ridiculous to watch how easily these adults are manipulated. These parents are just feeding the behavior. Children, like sociopaths, need well established boundaries to feel safe. Parents are doing children a disservice through their exaggerated efforts to appease. But these type of parents don't really care about the kid's welfare, not enough anyway. They're just doing whatever it takes to get the kid to shut up and get off their backs.

Another tricky thing about children is that adults expect you to be nice around them, to not tell them crazy things, to behave in certain socially acceptable ways, i.e. to behave how they would behave with a child. That's fine and I understand there are certain things that are considered off-limits for children. For instance, I recently acquired this impulse to choke people, including children. They're crying, or they're hitting me with something, or screaming at me and I just want it to stop so I reach out with both hands at their throats with these crazy eyes full of intent, like the cartoon character Homer Simpson. It is completely impulsive. I did that with a little relative recently. It was hilarious looking up and seeing his mother's anxious (slightly horrified?) expression wondering whether she should intervene or whether I was going to stop myself (I'm very open with who I am around my family).

So overall, I like children, but I like them best when I am given significant leeway with which to interact with them, or otherwise don't have judgmental, interfering adults around to distort my very natural interactions with them. I would imagine that I would have that in spades with my own children, so there's that. On the other hand, I wouldn't have the patience to deal with the everyday bustle that comes along with children. I would need to hire full-time help. A really interesting question is, if I did have a child, would I want it to be a sociopath or not? I'll have to think about that one...

Another thing, almost everything I said here about sociopaths and children would seem to apply equally to aspies and children.

Contradictions

An interesting reaction to the book is that it has contradictions. The most popular one is that I say that I was not the victim of abuse but then describe a less than idyllic childhood. Perhaps a close second is that I say that I have average looks yet consider my own breasts to be remarkably beautiful. Or maybe another is that I say I don't necessarily think anybody is better than anybody else, but I happen to be smarter than most people.

To me these things aren't contradictions. I never felt like the victim of abuse. Although I have sometimes played the role of victim (provoking my father, trying to get teachers fired or get better educational/job opportunities, etc.), perhaps due to my self-delusion/megalomania about being powerful and being someone who acts rather than be acted upon, or perhaps due to an inability to really feel bad about bad consequences that happen to me, I have never been able to actually identify with victimhood. I love my breasts, but I know that objectively I am average looking (I feel like men should understand this concept well, I feel like I have almost never known a man who wasn't infatuated with his genitalia). And I just happen to be smarter than most people -- that is exactly what it means to score in the 99th percentile on tests measuring intelligence (at least speaking of the type(s) of intelligence that these tests are meant to measure, and I acknowledge even in the book that there are a variety of different ways to be intelligent). Being smarter than most people is a fact about me the same way that my height and weight are facts. If I were exceptionally tall or fat, I would acknowledge those things about myself too without making any normative judgment that being tall makes me better or being fat makes me worse. I know people tend to think that smarter = better, but I have seen enough incompetent geniuses to not hold this opinion myself.

But I think people's negative reactions to seeming contradictions suggests something about people's discomfort with ambiguity. From Joss Whedon's recent graduation address to Wesleyan University:

[Our culture] is not long on contradiction or ambiguity. … It likes things to be simple, it likes things to be pigeonholed—good or bad, black or white, blue or red. And we’re not that. We’re more interesting than that. And the way that we go into the world understanding is to have these contradictions in ourselves and see them in other people and not judge them for it. To know that, in a world where debate has kind of fallen away and given way to shouting and bullying, that the best thing is not just the idea of honest debate, the best thing is losing the debate, because it means that you learn something and you changed your position. The only way really to understand your position and its worth is to understand the opposite.

That doesn’t mean the crazy guy on the radio who is spewing hate, it means the decent human truths of all the people who feel the need to listen to that guy. You are connected to those people. They’re connected to him. You can’t get away from it. This connection is part of contradiction. It is the tension I was talking about. This tension isn’t about two opposite points, it’s about the line in between them, and it’s being stretched by them. We need to acknowledge and honor that tension, and the connection that that tension is a part of. Our connection not just to the people we love, but to everybody, including people we can’t stand and wish weren’t around. The connection we have is part of what defines us on such a basic level.

I liked this a lot. Some of the most black and white thinkers use sources that are anything but, e.g. the ultra-religious using scriptural texts that portray a God of seeming contradictions (both kind and vengeful, both forgiving and damning) to justify making their own black and white assessments of certain things as being pure evil and others being unassailable good. A little like the junk science you see in sociopath research. The Joss Whedon quote also reminded me of one of my favorite twitter quotes:

"What is this "good" versus "evil" bullshit? There are no such animals in the real world. We do not live in a comic book for Christ's sake."
— M.E. (@sociopathworld) July 28, 2013

UPDATE: I think this article about being gay and Catholic is very interesting and relevant to any discussion of seeming contradictions and how there are many ways to live a life consistent with what you believe, despite what everyone else might think.

Nature vs. nurture

This New York Times article states the obvious -- bad parents can't take all the credit for good children and good parents can't take all the blame for bad children. Interestingly, it goes out of its way to say that bad behavior does not necessarily equal sociopathy:

“I don’t know what I’ve done wrong,” the patient told me.
She was an intelligent and articulate woman in her early 40s who came to see me for depression and anxiety. In discussing the stresses she faced, it was clear that her teenage son had been front and center for many years.
When he was growing up, she explained, he fought frequently with other children, had few close friends, and had a reputation for being mean. She always hoped he would change, but now that he was almost 17, she had a sinking feeling.
I asked her what she meant by mean. “I hate to admit it, but he is unkind and unsympathetic to people,” she said, as I recall. He was rude and defiant at home, and often verbally abusive to family members.
Along the way, she had him evaluated by many child psychiatrists, with several extensive neuropsychological tests. The results were always the same: he tested in the intellectually superior range, with no evidence of any learning disability or mental illness. Naturally, she wondered if she and her husband were somehow remiss as parents.
Here, it seems, they did not fare as well as their son under psychiatric scrutiny. One therapist noted that they were not entirely consistent around their son, especially when it came to discipline; she was generally more permissive than her husband. Another therapist suggested that the father was not around enough and hinted that he was not a strong role model for his son.
But there was one small problem with these explanations: this supposedly suboptimal couple had managed to raise two other well-adjusted and perfectly nice boys. How could they have pulled that off if they were such bad parents?
To be sure, they had a fundamentally different relationship with their difficult child. My patient would be the first to admit that she was often angry with him, something she rarely experienced with his brothers.
But that left open a fundamental question: If the young man did not suffer from any demonstrable psychiatric disorder, just what was his problem?
My answer may sound heretical, coming from a psychiatrist. After all, our bent is to see misbehavior as psychopathology that needs treatment; there is no such thing as a bad person, just a sick one.
But maybe this young man was just not a nice person.
For years, mental health professionals were trained to see children as mere products of their environment who were intrinsically good until influenced otherwise; where there is chronic bad behavior, there must be a bad parent behind it.
But while I do not mean to let bad parents off the hook — sadly, there are all too many of them, from malignant to merely apathetic — the fact remains that perfectly decent parents can produce toxic children.
When I say “toxic,” I don’t mean psychopathic. . . .

I often tell readers that not every asshole ex of theirs is a sociopath, and the same applies for misbehaving children. In this situation, though, I actually think it is foolish to discount the potential role of sociopathy. There is a strong genetic but weak environmental link to sociopathy, which is consistent with having two normal sons and one sociopathic one. Furthermore, although inconsistent discipline may not be enough to cause anyone to become a sociopath, it could trigger sociopathy in someone who was genetically predisposed to it, as sociopath children are particularly sensitive to incentive structures and perceived fairness (i.e. consistency and reciprocity). I obviously don't know the full story, but just based on the article, the description fits sociopathy, at least for this kid.

After spending time with my family recently, I am more convinced that nurture had a significant role to play in my development into a sociopath. When people ask me whether I had a bad childhood, I tell them that it was actually relatively unremarkable, however I can see how the antisocial behaviors and mental posturing that now define me were incentivized when I was growing up -- how my independent emotional world was stifled and how understanding and respect for the emotional world of others died away. Still I don't think I was "made" into a sociopath, nor was I born one. I feel like I was born with that predisposition, that I made a relatively conscious decision to rely on those skills instead of developing others, and that the decision was made in direct response to my environment and how I could best survive and even thrive in that environment. It's a bit similar to this author's description of her own survivalist adaptations:

If you’ve read much about writers, you know that many of us grew up with an alcoholic parent or in some otherwise dysfunctional home. Me, too. Kids who are raised in households where feelings of safety and predictability are up for grabs might be more likely to turn into storytellers. We spend a lot of emotional energy trying to guess what might happen next, and mentally drawing up different contingency plans. It puts us in the “what if” habit early.

Genetics are important for sociopathy, but environment plays a crucial role as well. Although the NY Times article notes that "[f]or better or worse, parents have limited power to influence their children," such that they should be reluctant "to take all the blame — or credit — for everything that their children become," unfortunately (or luckily?) they can still take quite a bit of blame (or credit) for sociopathic children, particularly with new "studies suggesting that such antisocial behavior can be modified with parental coaching." Knowledge is power.

Children = creepy monsters

I have often said that sociopaths are not difficult to understand, they're basically four year olds in an adult's body. They manipulate like four year olds. The world revolves around them like four year olds, but they can also be genuinely interested/curious about the people and things around them like four year olds. They can be surprisingly naive about certain things and tactlessly blunt. They don't have a great understanding of their own emotional worlds or the emotional worlds of others, nor do they have great emotional regulation. They will throw tantrums, sometimes violent, and they can sometimes be hard to reason with, but they still rationally respond to incentives. Four year olds can be incredibly cruel and devious. They can also be very creepy, as illustrated by this BuzzFeed article, "The 13 Creepiest Things A Child Has Ever Said To A Parent," from a longer reddit thread.

Worth reading in their entirety, some of my favorites include:

• "I'm imagining the waves of blood rushing over me."
• "I was tucking in my two year old. He said "Good bye dad." I said, "No, we say good night." He said "I know. But this time its good bye.""
• "My 3 year old daughter stood next to her new born brother and looked at him for awhile then turned and looked at me and said, "Daddy its a monster..we should bury it.""
• "Death is the poor man's doctor."

Bad but redeemable?

In the NY Times review of the book, Jon Ronson wrote that I simultaneously humanized and demonized myself. Some of my friends and family are a little upset that I didn't focus more on my "good" traits in the book, I think partly because it makes them look a like idiots for choosing to like me. Most people do not focus on their bad traits -- their every bad thought and motivation. Most people carefully craft a persona that they present to the world full of flattering photographs taken from the right angle and lighting and a résumé that shellacs over flaws and imperfections. I didn't want to whitewash myself or the traits of sociopathy. But I was also hoping to not convey that I thought that having the label "sociopath" meant I was all badass and there's nothing anyone can do about things. There actually are a lot of things people can do about it to make my life miserable and it's not too absurd to think that eventually all sociopaths really will be locked up or otherwise isolated from general society. But I was hoping to show that despite having some negative or potentially dangerous characteristics, there is still some hope for everyone, sociopaths and non. Because if someone as unlikeable as me can manage to be work and be loved in my own way, then it suggests there are ways to properly integrate sociopaths into society in pro-social ways.

Along those same lines, from a reader, Sarah:

From what I can tell, you're a clinical douchebag who deserves the Nobel Prize.  This kind of blows my mind, makes me slightly uncomfortable, and also boosts my faith in the survival of the human race.  Congrats.

I've just finished your book, and frankly, I'm not at all certain that "you" actually wrote that book or, if you did, whether any of it is factual or not.  But if it's a scam or fake, it's a great one, and if it's true -- if you actually do exist as an ethical, self-aware sociopath -- you've done all the "normal" and "abnormal" humans on the planet a great service by writing a memoir.

I'm an empath who has a visceral revulsion towards sociopaths, narcissists, and sadists (not that these are the same categories, but there are some similarities.)  I've had my personal run-ins (even been almost "ruined" by one), and I've witnessed well-paid sociopaths royally fucking up our economy and society.  So I wasn't inclined to like or respect you at all when I started reading the book.  

And there are certainly some things you describe that make me want to puke, or beat the shit out of you.  However, this desire to slap you across the face, which waxed and waned as I read, made me realize that even I have sociopathic traits, and that everybody else does, too.  No matter how guilt-ridden, emotional, and attuned to the feelings of other people we empaths are, everyone sometimes wants to exercise their power, take advantage of weakness, or feel in control of their environment.  My desire to hit you emerges solely from a wish to demonstrate that I am tougher, smarter, and more powerful than the Biggest Bitch in the Room.  If that's not a sociopathic impulse, I don't know what is.

So, speaking for the empaths (as I'm sure many have done before me), thanks for drumming up some self-reflection of the type I generally avoid.  I attend to myself carefully in many ways, and am quite aware of various weaknesses.  It's just that I usually frame my weaknesses as a surplus of love and squishiness, rather than a surplus of power-hunger or calculation.

Regarding that Nobel: if even a shit like you turns out to be not so much a shit as a regular human being who happens to function at the far end of a mysterious spectrum, then maybe we all have something pro-peace/pro-social to offer.  I absolutely love the suggestions you make for helping sociopathic kids, and I honestly believe they would not go amiss if applied to any young human who is different in some way.

Thanks, asshole.

Parent to a sociopath (part 2)

While I was watching We Need to Talk About Kevin, I thought several times about Andrew Solomon's book Far From the Tree, in which he writes about outlier children (i.e. children who are quite different from their parents, e.g. deafness, dwarfism, disability, genius, criminality, etc.). He discusses the difficulties that such children present to their parents, who have hoped to see their own unfulfilled promise attained vicariously through the lives of their children, and the great disappointment that can accompany the realization that their child is not who they imagined he would be (via Brain Pickings):

In the subconscious fantasies that make conception look so alluring, it is often ourselves that we would like to see live forever, not someone with a personality of his own. Having anticipated the onward march of our selfish genes, many of us are unprepared for children who present unfamiliar needs. Parenthood abruptly catapults us into a permanent relationship with a stranger, and the more alien the stranger, the stronger the whiff of negativity. We depend on the guarantee in our children’s faces that we will not die. Children whose defining quality annihilates that fantasy of immortality are a particular insult; we must love them for themselves, and not for the best of ourselves in them, and that is a great deal harder to do. Loving our own children is an exercise for the imagination. … [But] our children are not us: they carry throwback genes and recessive traits and are subject right from the start to environmental stimuli beyond our control. 

The most directly applicable We Need to Talk About Kevin quote:

Having exceptional children exaggerates parental tendencies; those who would be bad parents become awful parents, but those who would be good parents often become extraordinary.

Solomon also looks at the unique struggles of children who are born to parents that do not share the same defining traits. He first identifies the distinction between vertical identities, those we inherit from our parents like ethnicity or religion, and horizontal identities:

Often, however, someone has an inherent or acquired trait that is foreign to his or her parents and must therefore acquire identity from a peer group. This is a horizontal identity. Such horizontal identities may reflect recessive genes, random mutations, prenatal influences, or values and preferences that a child does not share with his progenitors. Being gay is a horizontal identity; most gay kids are born to straight parents, and while their sexuality is not determined by their peers, they learn gay identity by observing and participating in a subculture outside the family. Physical disability tends to be horizontal, as does genius. Psychopathy, too, is often horizontal; most criminals are not raised by mobsters and must invent their own treachery. So are conditions such as autism and intellectual disability.

(A quick note, I think the reference to psychopaths is hilariously demonizing, especially given Solomon's great care to withhold normative judgments of "bad" or "good" for the other outlier characteristics he discusses. To illustrate, imagine if he had used a similar negatively slanted statement for gay horizontal identity "most kids are born to straight parents, so must invent their own perversion.")

Solomon, who actually is gay with straight parents (but apparently feels that he did not invent his own perversion, unlike sociopaths), came up with his theory on vertical and horizontal identity when he noticed that he shared common identity issues with deaf children of hearing parents:

I had been startled to note my common ground with the Deaf, and now I was identifying with a dwarf; I wondered who else was out there waiting to join our gladsome throng. I thought that if gayness, an identity, could grow out of homosexuality, an illness, and Deafness, an identity, could grow out of deafness, an illness, and if dwarfism as an identity could emerge from an apparent disability, then there must be many other categories in this awkward interstitial territory. It was a radicalizing insight. Having always imagined myself in a fairly slim minority, I suddenly saw that I was in a vast company. Difference unites us. While each of these experiences can isolate those who are affected, together they compose an aggregate of millions whose struggles connect them profoundly. The exceptional is ubiquitous; to be entirely typical is the rare and lonely state.

I have noticed (and mention in the book) that there has been a lot of push back on labeling people, particularly the pathologizing of more than half the population. How could it possibly be that fewer people in the population are normal than abnormal?! But which seems more plausible -- that we are all cookie cutter neurologically the same? Or that we are all on a bell curve of myriad different human traits, our particular blend making us both completely unique (we actually are neurologically all special snowflakes, it turns out) and yet share identifiable traits in common across the entire swath of humanity. And that's a good thing. Charles Darwin remarked on the great variety of the human species:

As the great botanist Bichat long ago said, if everyone were cast in the same mould, there would be no such thing as beauty. If all our women were to become as beautiful as the Venus de’ Medici, we should for a time be charmed; but we should soon wish for variety; and as soon as we had obtained variety, we should wish to see certain characteristics in our women a little exaggerated beyond the then existing common standard.

Despite the many advantages of diversity, many families (and society) tend to treat horizontal identities as disorders that we would hope to eventually eliminate from the species:

In modern America, it is sometimes hard to be Asian or Jewish or female, yet no one suggests that Asians, Jews, or women would be foolish not to become white Christian men if they could. Many vertical identities make people uncomfortable, and yet we do not attempt to homogenize them. The disadvantages of being gay are arguably no greater than those of such vertical identities, but most parents have long sought to turn their gay children straight. … Labeling a child’s mind as diseased — whether with autism, intellectual disabilities, or transgenderism — may reflect the discomfort that mind gives parents more than any discomfort it causes their child.

(Is Solomon correct here? I think there are actually a lot of people who think that white Christian men are superior to other races/genders/religions, gay people are an abomination, autistic and disabled people are a drain to scarce social resources (same for sociopaths), etc. And perhaps their beliefs are not wrong, or at least it would depend on what measuring stick and set of values you use to judge.)

But I don't think it's the labels that are harmful, necessarily. Indeed, labels can be a boon to all outsiders forming their own horizontal identities. Rather, the problem seems to be the xenophobic system of enforcing social norms that encourages expressions of repulsion and shaming at what is too foreign to be relatable, whether it is feelings of disgust regarding gay people (especially gay people who do not feel the need to hide or tone down their "gayness"), the practices of other cultures (especially things that our own western culture has outgrown, like arranged marriages and modest clothing for women), or the backwards beliefs of religious "cults" (whereas our own religious beliefs are seen as perfectly plausible and normal).

Finally, Solomon describes what eventually happens to the mother in We Need to Talk About Kevin (and a hopeful statement for all parents of sociopathic children):

To look deep into your child’s eyes and see in him both yourself and something utterly strange, and then to develop a zealous attachment to every aspect of him, is to achieve parenthood’s self-regarding, yet unselfish, abandon. It is astonishing how often such mutuality has been realized — how frequently parents who had supposed that they couldn’t care for an exceptional child discover that they can. The parental predisposition to love prevails in the most harrowing of circumstances. There is more imagination in the world than one might think.

Parent to a sociopath

I finally got around to watching We Need to Talk About Kevin, the film version of the book of the same name, about a school massacre perpetrator and his mother. The story starts with the mother Eva becoming pregnant. She is ambivalent about motherhood. Her son Kevin does not respond to her mediocre attempts to bond or soothe. As he grows just a little older, it becomes clear that he is not normal, perhaps even deeply disturbed.

The film is no chronological and skips between before and after the massacre. Her life before was first young and exciting New York then a downgrade (in her mind) to a suburban estate with her growing family. Her life after is lonely squalor where she is the victim of all vandalism, violence, and sexual antagonism meant to, what? Shame her into denouncing her son? Some of the perpetrators seem to be family to the victims of the massacre, but others apparently are just looking to participate in socially sanctioned aggression and exploitation (her co-worker, after a rebuffed unwelcome advance, snarls "Where do you get off, you stuck up bitch? Do you think anyone else is gonna want you now?"). Her life is ruined. The second part flashes back to her early struggles with motherhood, then power struggles with her son, as evidenced in part by his refusal to be potty trained. In a fit of rage over him deliberately soiling his diaper after she just changed it, she throws him and breaks his arm. When recalling the moment later, he tells her "It’s the most honest thing you ever did. Do you know how they potty train cats? They stick their noses in their own shit. They don’t like it. So they use the box." After coming home from the hospital, he lies to his father about the broken arm, saying he fell off the diaper changing table. He then extorts his mother with the threat of exposure in order to get his way.

She is obviously not mother of the year, but who could be with a son so cold and apparently evil? That at least seems to be the suggestion of the first half of the film -- that there's nothing else she could have done better and we're supposed to feel sorry for her because she was unlucky enough to have birthed a demon. By the middle of the movie, we know what is going to happen, we are just filling in details. We get a little more realistic characterization of the son. The mother puts a cd marked "I love you" into her computer, which infects it with a virus (and all computers from her office connected to the network). She asks, why would you have something like this, what's the point? "There is no point. That's the point." She makes fun of fat people at a rare mother son excursion, to which he points out "You know, you can be kind of harsh sometimes."

Eva: "You’re one to talk."

Kevin: "Yeah, I am. I wonder where I got it."

Apart from a brief childhood sickness, when young Kevin cuddles with her while she reads him a book, their relationship is strained. Oddly, she is shown devotedly visiting him in prison, even though they hardly exchange a word. What's her motivation? Penance? Curiosity? Duty? Not love, is it? We also discover that although she lives a lonely, isolated existence, she has at least in part chosen this life (still lives in the same town despite the antagonism, avoids her mother's plea that she visit for the holidays). Finally, we see that her new home has a bedroom for him with all of his things, including his clothes that she regularly washes and irons to keep fresh. Why? On the second anniversary of the massacre she again visits Kevin in prison. He is about to be transfered to an adult facility. His head is poorly shaved. His face is bruised. He is not his usual confidently unapologetic self. She tells him he doesn't look happy. "Have I ever?"With their time running out, she finally confronts him:

Eva: Why?

Kevin: I used to think I knew. Now I'm not so sure. [pause]

Prison guard: Time's up.

They hug, Eva finally apparently reaching that place of love and acceptance for her son that had for so long eluded her.

I liked a lot of things about the film. There are some very accurate portrayals of sociopathic behavior. For instance, although Kevin never feels remorse about the massacre, he does show signs of regret -- an acknowledgment that perhaps he has miscalculated or misunderstood the true nature of life, including a sense of permanence of some consequences that many teenagers fail to intuit.

Perhaps the most interesting aspect of the film is the way it contrasts moral certainty (portrayed as ugly behavior) with self-doubt (portrayed as a sign of hope and the possibility of change). When the mother is at her most self-assured, Kevin hates her the most. It's only when she was weak enough to break his arm that he respects her for being honest. And Kevin's only redeeming moments are when he is sick and at the end when he is unsure whether the massacre was a good idea. These are stark contrasts to the moral indignation of the mother as she repeatedly tells her son off, the son as he repeatedly tells her everything is meaningless and that she is a hypocrite, the townspeople as they rally around to collectively dehumanize her (a small nod to the Scarlet Letter?), the husband who tells her she is a bad mother, etc. The problem with making these sorts of comprehensive judgments about a person are not that they aren't founded in truth, but that people naturally defy such pat assessments. They're simply too dynamic and life is too complicated (and subject more to chance than choice) to say with any degree of certainty that "so-an-so would never do something like that," or even "I would never do something like that." Moral certainty is often based in truth, but it denies so much more than it ever considers.

The film is also a true tragedy in that despite Kevin being particularly sinister and Eva particularly cold, there is nothing inherently wrong with either of these characters. Put in different circumstances, Eva could have been a wonderful mother and Kevin could have channeled his machiavellian traits to more pro-social activities that would have made an equal splash. The problems were in the way they interacted with each other. They were locked in a death struggle, a double drowning. In a desperate effort to ensure that the one would not unduly rule the other's life, they spent all of their time reacting to each other instead of just quietly going about their own lives. I see this with victims on this site too -- becoming so obsessed with making sure that someone does not unjustly assert their will on you that you allow your whole world to revolve around thoughts of the other person. They were both so focused on winning particular battles with each other, thinking that the sum of small wins would add up to a gestalt of victory. They did not consider the possibility that these might be Pyrrhic, or that sometimes when you win, you lose. Because neither Eva nor Kevin were willing to bend their vision of the world to accommodate other viewpoints, they were both eventually broken.

Pro-social sociopath? (part 2)

So here's what people had to say regarding the legitimate foundations for the negative stigma against sociopaths (hit me up again if you feel like I've missed yours):

• The issue is that you willingly and knowingly manipulate people to meet your own selfish desires and needs, with little regard for the well-being of your targets. 

Ok yes, this is admittedly ugly behavior and I try to not do this extensively/non-consensually/harmfully anymore for various reasons, not least of which is that it is toxic to relationships and I've started to acknowledge that in dehumanizing others, I devalue my own self  However, I'm not sure the "knowing" manipulation of the sociopath (how conscious and intentional does it have to be?) is much worse than the unknowing selfish manipulation that is commonplace in all humanity. No one behaves selflessly all of the time. Every empath chooses to intentionally hurt or manipulate another at some point in their lives (and sometimes regularly). They suffer the consequences (eventually) and so do sociopaths (even though, admittedly, sociopaths probably won't be as broken up about rocky relationship troubles as an empath would).

• You may make people feel better about themselves, and they may love to have your attention and interest, but you are deceiving them, planting the seeds of false hope that the average person would accept them for who they are. Social dictums are as good as law, and you encourage people to break them by accepting what should be unacceptable. You're not doing them any favors. Failure to adhere to social norms has very real consequences, and it is in every individual's best interests to conform in order to be happy and comfortable in life.

This is crazy. So the husband who tells his wife, "you're the most beautiful woman in the world" when really most people would consider her to have average looks is setting her up for a lifetime of false hope and accompanying failure?

• But to lie at the person encouraging her handicap it is not pro-social; you are not doing that person a favor at all.

Hilarious, I'd love to see someone tell an overweight person that they have a handicap ("fatness") to their face. There is nothing inherently (and particularly not morally or even socially) wrong with carrying a little extra weight and wearing clothing that most would consider unflattering. Despite that being true, many normal people would make the girl's appearance their own business somehow, whereas the sociopath would think (rightly) that it is no concern of his. So the sociopath is not being a fraud or perpetuating a scam by pretending to not care when really he is bothered by the girl's weight -- he sincerely does not care. And is it devious to be nice to someone because you know they'll be nice in return? No, at least according to the Sesame Street-esque lessons on good manners I remember from my childhood.

• The fact that the pure selfishness of the sociopath might have sometimes accidentally benefits for others, don’t make them any kinder, because their intentions are not kind.

Pro-social does not necessarily mean kind and vice versa. Is it kind to share child sex slaves with your friends? Maybe. Is it pro-social? Probably not. Is it kind to open a sandwich shop across the street from an existing restaurant? Probably not. Is it pro-social? Yes, society benefits from the competition and increased variety of eating options.

• Sociopaths behave as the worse type of xenophobes. They do a selection according on how exploitable somebody can be for them, and in this selection there are parameters like class, income, origins, etc.

No, this makes sociopaths the ultimate meritocrats, where people are judged on actual value (to the sociopath, of course, but of course there is no objective value for anything in this world, least of all for people).

• Where things become ethically problematic in my mind is if that positive interaction opens a door to exploitation of the tube top girl.

What would exploitation look like in this scenario? If there is something to exploit in propping up the girl's self-esteem, it's because normal people have chosen (irrationally) to tear it down in the first place. It's like saying that someone who gives a member of a disenfranchised class of persons a job is exploiting them by benefiting from their work when that disenfranchised person could probably have gotten a better job somewhere else (or even a better career) if they were not disenfranchised. The problem here is not the sociopath being normal to the fat girl, but everyone else treating her as less than her true value. (This is similar to the way that value stock traders "exploit" the systematic underpricing of certain stocks by buying low and selling high, which is also pro-social because it helps the market reflect the true value of stocks.)

• Empathy is the essential ingredient needed for the healthy emotional growth of a child.

Maybe, but this is far from certain and not at all proved. I think there's a big difference from a wire monkey and an actual human being who just happens to not feel empathy.

That's all I saw for reasons how or why the stigma/stereotype for sociopaths is founded. If you missed this opportunity or I missed yours, just email. Otherwise, it seems like the there are not as many legitimate reasons to hate sociopaths as previously thought?

Book responses (part 5)

From a "sympathetic neurotypical" reader:


Reading your book "Confessions of a Sociopath" has been a watershed experience for me. It confirms my hopeful suspicion that far from being evil, sociopaths are just different.  

Because you don't know me and likely don't get fired up because a self identified empath spews some version of "You're good enough, smart enough, and people like you" I will cut to the chase. 

I would like to meet you and converse with you at length, and not just for kicks. I am a writer who is fascinated by this topic and how the so called "dark triad" traits interact within the context of conservative/fundamentalist variations of religion.   

I have a theory: Sociopaths may well be society's salvation because they are the ultimate bullshit detectors. I am the granddaughter of a prominent evangelical leader who was the ultimate "cult of personality" figure. He was a supreme narcissist and all of us struggle someone with the sort of "drama of the gifted child" legacy that comes with being a "prop" in the grand myth surrounding the demigod of a Christian patriarchal family. Though I've ben divorced since 2008, I "escaped" this upbringing by marrying the scion of another Christian patriarchy at the age of 20. Suffice it to say I have learned quite a bit about the "complicated" morality of neurotypicals who consider themselves to be morally above reproach.

My entire life has been steeped in the judgments of good and evil that a family culture like this perpetuate, and I have known since I was about 10 that there was something "off" in a different way (different than sociopathic, I mean) about my clan. Specifically - the tendency to scapegoat anyone that questions the moral authority of the system." Questions from observers produce an annihilating rage and motivation to exterminate the one asking the questions after the veneers of patronizing "compassion for the unsaved" get stripped off. 

Why do I think you might want to talk to me? Because I have an intimate knowledge of the sort of individuals who want to exterminate "you and your kind." 

I am including a link to a column I wrote last year about the importance of not stigmatizing children who are put in the antisocial category (via MRI or by clinical diagnosis) to help you understand that I think our thinking on this topic is very compatible. 

But perhaps the most significant reason I want to advocate for the better understanding of sociopathic traits is the fact I am pretty sure someone dear to me is one. And I'll be damned if I let anyone scapegoat her. 

While the callous/unemotional side of your described experience does not ring a bell for me, I very much identify with your sensation seeking personality and your Machiavellian way of operating. It's interesting that you link the stronger connection between the right and left hemispheres with both sociopathy and ADD because I have a screaming case of the latter, which I consider to be an asset, not a disability, which is probably why I have no problem with your dispassionate way of viewing the world. 

Book appendix (part 5)

(cont. from interview with my mother):


Sometimes I feel guilty for it because I know I was gone, being on the stage and trying to figure out what would bring happiness in my life and I was gone way too much. I should have been home more and keeping tabs on things.  

I know you were always closed off, like affection.  You weren’t ever very affectionate, as far as hugging.  You were kind of closed off emotionally.  I don’t ever remember you crying.  Instead of you being sad, you usually chose to be angry.  That was your emotion of choice.  It seems like when you got angry, you would just get in someone’s face verbally and then you would try to get that person to have their own emotional explosion.  I remember you would try to push dad’s buttons and get him to get really mad.  It’s almost like you liked the emotional turmoil of anger and every now and then you would feed into that and make it happen.  Then things would calm down, until they would build up again.  But I don’t know. Dad was like that too.  But it seemed like you and he butted heads a lot.  I don't remember you ever being sad or hurt.  Even when you were in the hospital with the physical hurt, you weren’t crying or sad.  You know, like a normal person would do.  Especially girl.  You know teenage girls, they would cry over stuff, be hurt or have their feelings hurt.  I don’t remember you ever being like that.  So you were definitely not the typical teenage girl.  I think that’s why you didn’t have a lot of teenage girl friends. Most of your friends were boys, maybe because you related to them a lot more.  Boys aren’t very emotional, they’re more thinking.   

I think you have a little ADD.  It’s hard for you to focus on one thing at a time.  You have to be doing like 3 things at once, even in church you’ll be doing multiple things.  You can’t focus on one thing at a time, or at least not for very long.  But I also think you’re always just thinking about things and wondering about things, so something will catch your interest and you’ll want to explore that.  You’re kind of an explorer type of personality; you like to explore new and different things.

In the way that you did far more and went far more than any of the other kids, that was a little bit of a surprise because I don’t think it was anything normal. You were like super child, going out and doing things far beyond what was expected.

I don’t think you’re trying to corrupt people, but I think you like to do things for shock value—just throw things out there and see how they land, see how they would fly. So I think I was a little uncomfortable with your influence over your younger siblings. I think you’re influential. Sometimes I see the whole family bending to what you want to do and I think we have set you or accepted you in that role of figuring out what we want to do or how we are going to do it, and I think we enjoy that. And I don’t think you carry it too far either. I don’t think you’re too pushy about it. But you are definitely a natural born leader. I think that’s what makes you such a good teacher. I think you’re influential because you’re smart and determined and passionate about the things you want to do, and I think people tend to want to follow someone like that. I think the family follows you because we know you’re smart and efficient and you can figure out probably the best way of doing things and you have novel and fun ideas. You’re always full of ideas. And you’re always coming up with good ways of solving problems or making things happen smoothly.

I remember one time when I was super proud of you, singing this particular song I like. That was a proud moment because you were just up there saying I’m my own person, I don’t care what other people do to me, I’m going to live my life the way I want to.  And I was just proud of you for that.  I don’t think I’ve ever been that way.  I’m getting to be more and more that way, but I used to not be.  I used to be codependent, trying to manipulate people from the wings but never really voicing my opinion and saying what I wanted, what I needed.  I was always kind of in the shadows.  That’s why I liked the stage I think, because I could be somebody else, another person.  And I was good at it and people thought I was wonderful, so I think that’s why I kind of got addicted to the stage.  

I think the book is kind of cool.  I see it as another step in your healing and becoming more your own person.  Kind of dealing with all of the stuff that’s happened to you and figuring out who you really are.  I think the book is part of this process.  

Book appendix (part 4)

From an interview with my mother:


It was hard for me when you were born.  Baby number three is always hard because when there’s two there’s one for each parent, but when there are three it’s hard.  And you came so close to Jim.  And Jim was taking his sweet time getting potty trained, so I had both of you in diapers for like a year.  And that was before the disposable diapers were popular and they were expensive so we had cloth diapers and I had to wash them and hang them out on the line because we didn’t have a dryer.  So it seemed like that was my whole life was taking care of babies, changing diapers, washing them, hanging them out.  I think that was the time I went a little nutso.  I remember I just started freaking out sometime and dad had to call grandpa and have him come over and talk me out of it.  I don’t know, just the stress and everything probably piled up.  In those days I wasn’t very good about keeping on an even keel.  I’d let thing build up and build up and then just start flipping out.  

We thought you were perfectly healthy, but you had thrush at birth and the thrush got worse, which made you not want to nurse.  I would try to calm you down by nursing you.  You would just be upset and there was nothing we could do to get you to stop crying.  You would cry until you were exhausted and then sleep for a while.  So that was a very trying time.  Finally, I don’t remember how old you were until we finally took you into the doctor, and they checked you out and said you had thrush.  You had a herniated navel too, probably because you were crying so violently.  That was sad, my poor baby.  I just remember the family get together at the beach when you were crying and everyone was trying to be the one to hold you and calm you down but nobody could do it so I just took you and went away with you walking around the whole park.  I would sometimes just leave you in a room to cry.  There was nothing else to do.  I put you on your stomach on the water bed because you seemed to like it.  So you would cry and fuss, the waterbed would rock you and you would finally go to sleep.  In some ways I think that made us bond more because I was very emotionally involved with you and protective of you, wanting to fix what was wrong and wanting you to be better, happier and healthy.  So I think I was maybe a little extra attached to you.  Dad would be the one who would say, “Just put her in a room and shut the door.”  Because we lived in that little dinky house, so there wasn’t anywhere where you could escape the noise.  I wonder what Jim and Scott thought of that.  I don’t remember focusing on them at all, I was just so wrapped up in you.  Poor Jim, because he was just a little guy.  He probably got ignored a lot when this screaming baby came along and kicked him out of mama’s world.  

I can’t remember hardly anything about your childhood. I remember you drowning as a child.  I can’t remember who noticed you back there but then when I saw you, it seemed like you had let go of the boat.  But I just remembered feeling totally frantic and I remembered just having this sick feeling and praying that you would be ok.  It seems like we had to go down the river a little to be able to pull over to the side of the river.  I can’t remember how they called to get people to come help.  I ran up the beach, sick with worry.  I guess you just kind of came to and started breathing.  You seemed to be pretty much ok.  I mean kind of out of it a little, but I was just happy you were conscious and breathing and back with us.  

I remember when you had your appendix problem.  I always thought that I was pretty good at reading my kids, knowing what was wrong with them, but you were super hard to read.  And we had never had anything serious happen with the kids before, so this was a first for us. I didn’t really know or think there was something that was seriously wrong because you weren’t even acting serious until you developed a fever.  But when we went in there and it had ruptured and you were so sick, I was mad at myself for not having taken you in sooner.  But you were really good at being closed off, showing a brave front and going off and doing your thing and you didn’t really care if you were sick or let little pains get in the way.  You were just off doing yourself.  So I guess your common sense with your health wasn’t that great.  Because I remember you went and even played in a tournament with your appendix either ruptured or about to rupture.  So that was crazy.  I can’t even comprehend someone being able to do that.  

I remember you hated the hospital and always tried to get dad to eat your food, which wasn’t very hard.  And I remember he had to finish your breakfast that morning so you would get out of there and wanted to get out so bad.  And then you had to be in a wheelchair for like 5 days after.  And I remember you being at school and seeing how the kids were fawning over you and I realized that you had a lot of friends and people that cared about you.  And you seemed to be in pretty good spirits about the whole thing.  It’s not like you were like, “I’m in a wheelchair and this sucks.”  I think you were kind of enjoying a new experience.  But I think you were happy to get better—get back to your fast paced life.  You wouldn’t have lasted in a wheelchair that long for sure.

Book appendix (part 2)

From an interview with an in-law:

The first thing that I find unusual about you is that you’re very anxious to give us, your family, whatever we want.  I see this as a sign that you love us because from what I have heard about how you act around other people, that is not at all how you act, but rather trying to get what you want through manipulation or whatever.  That’s one of the things I would say to sum you up is that you are one of the most generous people I have met.  You’re always so willing to give time, money—anything. 

I think it’s funny, I’m more guarded around you because sometimes I throw out ideas or desires to you even if I don’t really want them.  But I’m more careful what I say around you because you’re likely to make it actually happen. You’re just big on having people do what they want to do, so I think that if I said I wanted to go to a certain place, you’d say “let’s do it.”  I would give my reasons why I wasn’t going to, and you’d give your reasons why it would be good and just push for it.  Or it’s funny, when I tell you things like “I like those slippers,” and you say, “you can have them.”  I never know what you mean by that, if it means “I don’t really like them” or if it means that you do like that thing, but if you hear someone say that they really like it, you want to give someone what they really like because you think it’s better for the economy of the family to give someone what they really like rather than have you keep something that you just kind of like.

But, at the end of vacation time spent with family when you get cranky. It’s almost as if you’re too tired to do it anymore. 

But I think it is the most humorous with the children, because you are equally as anxious to give them whatever they want.  Maybe even more anxious.  It’s very interesting to watch because no other normal adults I have met are willing to give children whatever they want.  And children are subject to so many whims.  But you take them all seriously.  “Do you want to play the piano?”  “Would you like to dance?”  And so the children love you so much.  And I think it’s ironic that you think that you won’t connect with your own children, should you have any, because that is a very strong connection to children.  However there are those moments when you say “That baby is driving me crazy,” and few other human beings say that as well.  “Man, Charlie is being so rotten right now.”  Or “So and so is so cute.”  Or when you ask my children “Which of your brothers do you like better?” 

With the older kids, sometimes you bother me because you’re trying to figure out if they’re like you so you ask them questions, leading questions, like “which person do you like more?”  And sometimes, like the other night, when you tried to trick Alan into thinking that Byron said he liked Charlie better, that is where I draw the line.  I intercede in those moments to tell him “No, he did not say that.” 


I thought it was interesting when you said that you have a hard time connecting with my children, because you said you don’t understand them?  I define them as being perfectly normal children.  You don’t understand them because they’re compassionate? Is that it?  Or is it because they’re more emotionally driven and they let their emotions dictate their behavior?  It’s more primal in children, it seems easy to understand to me. 

You’re very good at giving the children gifts.  They are very age appropriate.  Most people find that to be difficult.  I think parents are much better than grandparents, but in some ways you’re even better than parents because you remove the selfish component of gift giving. I think sometimes parents don’t want to give certain presents to children because they’re too loud, messy, take up too much space, or because they want something for their children rather than thinking what the children really want.  And grandparents probably just want what is easier to find. 

Maybe your ability has something to do with your ability to process what they enjoy.  Maybe it’s because you’re always keyed into making other people happy, so you’ve been even trying to make the little people happy and thinking in those moments, “what would make them happy right now?” So it’s easier for you to think—what gift would make them happy.

The children are always so excited to see you.  You are their favorite aunt or uncle. 

Guest post: Violent children

Treatment Or Help For Children Who Have Threatened Or Showed Violence

Violence and Children

We live in a culture that seems to becoming increasingly violent. Not only are adults violent, but children can also exhibit violent behavior. More often than not, violent behavior in children is not taken seriously. Parents, teachers and other adults are very quick to say that this type of behavior is a phase that the child is growing through and end it will end soon. However, violent behavior in children is something that should always be taken seriously.

What Causes Violent Behavior in Children?

There are a variety of things that can cause a child to become violent. Children who grow up in a home where violence is common are more likely to become violent. Other problems in the home, such as poverty and divorce, can trigger violent behavior in children. Furthermore, children who spend a lot of time watching violent television shows and playing violent video games are more likely to become violent.

What Are Some of the Warning Signs?

A child who is prone to violent behavior will usually exhibit warning signs. Some of those signs include irritability, intense anger and frequent loss of temper. Children who are prone to violent behavior may also get frustrated easily.

How Can Violent Behavior In Children Be Treated?

Again, violent behavior is something that needs to be stopped early. This behavior will only continue to get worse as a child gets older. Children who have had a history of violence should be seen by a mental health professional. The goal of professional treatment is to get child to control his or her anger and to teach him or her how to express it in a healthy way. Treatment will also teach a child how to accept responsibility for his or her own actions.

How Can Violent Behavior In Children Be Prevented?

One of the best things that can be done to prevent violent behavior in children is to reduce the child's exposure to violence. Children should not spend a lot of time watching violent movies and television shows. Parents also need to make sure that they avoid harshly punishing their children because that can also cause violent behavior. It is quite obvious that exposure to violence can cause a person to become violent.

*This is an informational article about violent behavior in children. If you want to get help for troubled teens, then you should read more articles on this website.*

Tell me doctor (part 1)

From a reader:


I was born close to twenty-five years ago to a nice, inexperienced, young couple. I am told I was an average baby, behaviorally speaking. Except, before I was six months of age, I was diagnosed with a congenital cardiovascular condition. This placed me on the operating table in a nothing less than immediate timing. (Hereby why I suspect any attachment disorder and aspd just about equally.) My mother tends to repeat the tale of the aftermath, which obviously made an impression on her. How as they visited me, while in intensive care, my infant self, awake, turned away from them and did not give into any gestures of affection.

In my early years, I noticed, and this from personal memory, that I had no real connection to my parents. Or anyone, for that matter. Sure, they were my parents but, I was still in some separate, parallel existence. Needless to say, I never spoke of this perception to them, or anyone else. In fact, this poor excuse of a letter might be the first time I let anyone on my little dark "secret". I don't mind it though. If anything, it's like lazily tossing a pillow.

As a child, I saw the people around me, especially and most specifically adults, play make-believe in a continuum, inescapable game. I saw it all as hypocritical and obnoxious nonsense. Then, the predicted reactions came along, "Why should I play along?" et cetera. By the time I was in kindergarten, I'd already decided to keep the peace. To play along. With my immediate group, at least. My family.

Family. There goes an interesting concept on its own.

Unknown to her, I've never had a relationship with my mother. If anyone were to ask her, I'm sure she'd say the exact opposite. Which is fine by me. It keeps the peace, as said. With my father, it was a whole different story. If I could ever call anyone a "friend", for whatever I might consider a friend to be, if I was ever "close" to anyone at all, it was him.

Somehow, and this I can't explain, I think he saw me for what I was. Whatever that may be. Therefore, and because he was my father and acted the role to the letter, I could be myself with him. There would be no overreaction. No questioning. Regardless of what I did, this without passing judgement simply because of our ties, he accepted me. I'm not sure if he understood me, thoroughly, though there was a certain willingness for that too, but there was acceptance. In addition to this objectiveness from his part. I could sense it, at arm's length, now and then. Not overly abrasive nor cold. Simply, objective.

That distant relationship was the best thing I could possibly ask for, if I had ask for anything at all. Though I knew, somehow, it was abnormal. Which, again, was fine with me.

One thing that has recently made wonder about this father and offspring companionship is the memory of those odd bits from my already unorthodox childhood. I remember being cruel to some of our house pets. In both occasions, my father was present.

I cannot say what made me do it, nor why didn't he just stop me, or applied some sort of punishment for my behavior. He did not. He didn't stop me from shoving toilet paper down that puppy's throat, or from beating my 'favorite' cat while in bed. Both actions were spontaneous. I never planned on being cruel. I never even thought about doing anything of the sort. But I did it. Out of nowhere came those two-inch, discorporated fists of mine. And I say Discorporated due to the lack of proper wording to what happened. 

Without trying to sound textbook, I can sincerely tell you that I felt nothing. That is precisely why I remember things clearly. Maybe too clear for my taste. 

My father did not say "stop" or "this is wrong". He simply watched and, before things escalated, with some twisted humor (I took it as such anyway), he'd say something like, "Poor cat." Then, I'd stop and try to figure out why was the cat "poor"? It wasn't necessarily a question but, my job was to understand why he'd say something like that. Why should I feel bad for the cat? I saw it as a lesson. I couldn't say if that's what he attempted to do, I never asked, but that's what I got from it.

Murderous children

This is an interesting article about the parents of one of the victims of the Columbine school massacre meeting with the parents of one of the shooters:

Approximately ten years and four months after Eric Harris murdered their child, Linda and Tom drove into Denver to greet his parents. The Harries declined to comment on the meeting. These are Linda’s impressions.
* * *
Wayne [Harris] was mystified by his son. Wayne and Kathy accepted that Eric was a psychopath. Where that came from, they didn’t know. But he fooled them, utterly.

He’d also fooled a slew of professionals. Wayne and Kathy clearly felt misled by the psychologist they sent him to. The doctor had brushed off Eric’s trademark duster as “only a coat.” He saw Eric’s problems as rather routine. At least that’s the impression he gave Wayne and Kathy.

They shared that perception with the Mausers. Other than the van break-in, Eric had never been in serious trouble, they said. He and Dylan were arrested in January 1998 and charged with three felonies. They eventually entered a juvenile diversion program, which involved close monitoring and various forms of restitution.

Eric rarely seemed angry, his parents said. There was one odd incident where he slammed his fist into a brick wall and scraped his knuckles. That was startling, but kids do weird things. It seemed like an aberration, not a pattern to be worried about.

Wayne and Kathy knew Eric had a Web site, but that didn’t seem odd. They never went online to look at it. “I found them kind of incurious,” Linda said.

From time to time, she wondered whether the Harrises were lying, or exaggerating. Her instincts said no. They did not strike her as calculating or devious; maybe a bit hapless. And Wayne was somewhat inscrutable. Honest, but not revealing. Linda believed them, but wondered whether the couple second-guessed themselves enough. “Honestly, if it were me this happened to, I think I’d still be questioning myself,” Linda said. “They did not seem to doubt themselves.”

But doubting oneself is only useful if there was another, better option available to you at the time given the information you had.

You will always be my son

From a reader:


So tired of explaining my son and trying to figure out the dark mystery he is but your experience reflects a part of who my son is. At three diagnosed with Asperger's. Had some classic traits but still didn't quite fit the mold. Socially inept, uncoordinated, wanted friends but was awkward and inappropriate. The boy's IQ is 150. Thought that coping with all the Asperger's problems as a single parent with no support would be as bad as it would get. Then at 15 he had a "psychotic break" in which I came home from work as a case manager for mostly psychotic schizophrenics to find my own son crying hysterically begging me to stay away from him because he was having possible instrusive thoughts, not sure, and the urge to kill me. I stayed in clinical mode as I tried to calmly take his hysteria down and brought him to crisis. The clinician, who I knew and didn't really like me, told me to take him home and he would be okay. Oh yeah, he also told the clinician that he wanted to rape me. No big deal. I could handle it. And I did. Horrifying and heartbreaking.

At 16 he said he had begun hearing voices but I knew many clients who heard voices and my son did not present as they did. He never responded to the voices which is something people are compelled to do. Didn't make sense. Two weeks later he vividly described a visual hallucination saying that cops were at the door with guns drawn. He seemed fascinated by it. I had heard 100's of accounts of visual hallucinations and they weren't as clear as his.  About four months ago after complaining to me daily that he was having suicidal thoughts and the urge to strangle me I saw the intent in his eyes one day. Did not know this child. He was not my son. Back to crisis where he was clear and said he felt "good" in waiting area but presented as the perfect psychotic, demeanor, body language, voice when being evaluated by the clinician. This time he was taken to an adolescent psych hospital 90 miles away. I almost collapsed a few times that day during the process. I was so drained from weeks of waiting to be strangled. My denial enable me to cope but every time he would surprise me I involuntarily jumped and let out a small animal-like yelp. My subconscious knew to be scared.

While he was in the hospital everything changed as far as my perception of this innocent victim of mental illness. He would call several times a day crying and begging me to get him out. Then his voice changed and he was quite in control stating with hostility and threat that I'd better get him out AMA. One particular visit turned the switch in me. As he sat across the table crying and begging again making outragious complaints about staff and other patients I shut down and did not react. This accelerated his determination and manipulative tactics. He couldn't believe that I was calmly countering all he said. 

Then he began yelling and tried to leap across the table to get to me. I told him now I could really see the hatred and how much he really did want to hurt me. Not done, he put his hands around his neck in an effort to show he would strangle himself. His acting abilities did not impress me. I had been through so much in an effort to help him to this point, now I felt taken advantage of and betrayed. He had shown signs before of switching in seconds from the tortured victim to an arrogant kid just screwing around. He didn't know I had witnessed these incidents. And the lies were always there. He is home and still has the thoughts and urges. I don't know him anymore. Now that he knows I have caught on no more coming to me for sympathy just an uncomfortable distance. Need help. There is a Forensic Psychiatrist in San Jose, Ca not for from us, Dr. Arturo Silva, who has a theory that Asperger's can turn into psycopathic traits as a teenager. Been trying to get in touch with him but not successful. I feel in my gut he might have answers that I need. Can you help?


M.E.:

I don't know if there is anything I can do to help. If he is a sociopath, you should appeal to his self-interest. It does not help him to harm you because you are willing to financially support him through college, or whatever else it is. It sounds like he is around 17. You might want to talk to him about how when he turns 18, you will still be his mother and will support him in anyway you can, but he will be considered an adult by society. Anything he does after that could have very long lasting effects for him. Give him some facts about the average life expectancy of someone his age. Perhaps you two could "volunteer" at a prison? He should be rational enough to be educated in these ways. And if you acknowledge how he is different without judging him, things should be able to get better between the two of you. Say things like, "you will always be my son." Give him a sense of permanence. Explain to him the meaning of the phrase "don't defecate where you eat." Have him read the book "Lord of the Flies" and see how he feels about it. If he's not a sociopath, I don't think these things will work.

Let's play doctor (part 2)

It's been a while since we've had an, "am I a sociopath?" post. I thought this one was interesting. There were several things that I really identified with and other things that I didn't as much (maybe you all can guess which is which), but who knows what that means.


Hey, I've just come across your blog and I relate to your thoughts. I'm a 16 year old sociopath girl. I've always known that I was different from everyone else, and about a year ago someone told me I was a sociopath. I didn't really know what that meant at the time and I spent a lot of time researching it. That person was dead on. I score a 29 on the Hare psychopathy checklist too. The post you had that has a representation of how a sociopath develops from child to adult is extremely accurate, however I only relate to the one about a male, not the one about a female. Let you know this, though: I am a very well-liked and somewhat popular person at my school. I'm sure people realize I'm not quite like them, but they are drawn to me for that reason exactly.

 I am not a violent sociopath, but I am indifferent to violence. I do not truly love anyone although I am attached to some people such as family friends but only for selfish reasons. I think if one of them were to die, i would get over it quickIy. I hate saying "i love you" to my family because I don't LOVE them.

I lie all the time, I enjoy manipulating people, I feel the need to be in control. I do not have empathy of any sort...

However, I've found that I do get angry. Do you get angry? People say that sociopaths don't have any emotions at all, but anger is an emotion.

Also, when you see violent movies or hear about shootings or murders do you feel anything towards the victims? I feel so aloof in my world of other teenagers  because I feel nothing at all. When I heard about the massacre of the children at Sandy Hook elementary school, I didn't care at all. Like at all. Today in my English class we are discussing slavery and before showing us this clip from a movie about the transportation of slaves in the Middle Passage, my teacher said "this is extremely graphic and hard to watch and it's very emotional..." Blah blah blah. When I watched it, the only thing I felt was interest in what would have gone on, I felt nothing for the slaves who were suffering incredibly. Everyone (including the teacher) was like crying and shit and i always find it fucking annoying when people show emotion. It's like this for everything, I only feel extreme interest about violence and crimes. I enjoy reading about all the different stories about all the serial killers and how they went about getting them alone and how they killed them. I would never or could ever do anything violent, but I love to read about it. Do you feel this way?

I am a very high functioning sociopath. I  am very intelligent (125 IQ) and I put on all sorts of masks and know how to behave in all the different social situations. I find it extremely exhausting though. It annoys me to no end and I find myself sometimes just not putting on a mask because its such a low risk situation. I need motivation to act like an empath and when I don't have motivation for something I would gain from acting, I just don't bother. Do you find yourself doing that?

I also am extremely impressionable. When I read a book or watch a movie/tv show where I really like the personality of a character, in the time period in which I like them a lot, I mix their personality with mine. It usually doesn't last long, and I'll find another that I like. People that I've known for a long time never know what I'm going to do or say because I am so impulsive.

Also, I'm attractive and I can have whatever guy I want. The whole game is getting them to like me and chasing them. When I win, and I always do, within a couple months ill get bored and dump them. Ordinary people are just so lame and boring and easy to manipulate.

I get bored so so easily and I have to live my life on the edge without explicitly breaking the rules. I get off on it.

It's a relief to be able to say this all to you because I can't say it to anyone else..

Thoughts?