Ladies and gentlemen, hello”¦and thanks for inviting me to speak to you about sociopathy. As an audience, you come highly recommended by my good friend Phil, who visited with you last winter as a narcissism expert, and who, I understand, you basically booed off the lectern.
By way of personal disclosure, I can tell you that I’ve been diagnosed as a sociopath separately by several prominent clinicians all of whom, let me establish candidly, were complete charlatans. As a matter of fact, this is the basis of my book, which of course is prominently displayed for purchase on the table in the back, entitled, “How Three Utter Clinical Charlatans Separately Diagnosed Me as a Sociopath.”
Just a little about my personal history”¦
Okay, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, where to begin?
Ladies and gentlemen, I think I’d like to start by telling you that I am a highly ethical personality, a point I choose to stress if only to assure you that I have every intention of returning the wallet that I know one of you is missing because I lifted it off you on the coffee and danish line about fifteen minutes ago.
Please”¦no need to check your pockets and pocketbooks. As I said, I’ll return the wallet shortly, during our upcoming break”¦however—and, of course, consistent with my stringent ethics—I won’t guarantee, because I don’t make promises I can’t keep, that I’ll be returning the wallet with the same cash amount as when I lifted it.
Ladies and gentleman, I’m delighted to be here. My presence here, of course, gives you a chance to glean some insight into the fascinating minds of sociopaths, and me the chance to score, I hope, with one of the more attractive women in the audience, whether she be single or not.
This way, we establish the quid pro quo up front.
My friends, sociopaths, as you know, tend to be deceptive individuals. And they tend to lie very boldly. For instance, my brother-in-law Frank, who, incidentally, tends to follow me around like a stalker—yes, he accused me of stealing money he gave me to start my hedge fund business.
I’ll never forget a recent interaction we had, which I share with you for instructional purposes:
He said, “Ron, you haven’t paid a cent of that loan back. What’s the deal?”
I said, “What deal? What deal are you talking about?”
He said, “The loan, Ron. The 50-grand we loaned you with the stipulation you’d pay it back with 5% interest.”
I said, “That was a loan?”
He said, “Of course it was a loan, you f’ing sociopath.”
See what I mean, folks? The deception? How he tried spinning what had clearly been offered as a gift of 50-thousand dollars into, conveniently, a loan? And did you notice his audacity—audacity being a very sociopathic feature?
Calling me a sociopath, when so clearly he was the sociopath? I believe professionals also call that “projection?”
Yes, I see a hand raised?
Of course my sister supported him! What a moronic question!
She’s my sister, yes, but he’s her husband. Naturally she claimed, with as much nerve as he, that it was a loan, not a gift, which they both made to me. This is a wonderful example, incidentally, of the corrupting influence that sociopaths like my brother-in-law can have on their vulnerable partners.
And to anticipate your next question”¦no, I won’t be paying a cent of that loan—I meant to say gift—back”¦because, that would be enabling their deceipt and I refuse, from principle, to do that.
Ladies and gentlemen, I must be frank and tell you that I’ve been married five times. Now what does this fact tell you? Here’s what it should tell you: It should tell you how absolutely clueless my prior wives were, inasmuch as all they needed to do to keep me satisfied was to appreciate how good they had it with me.
Even my present wife, who recently outed me for cheating on her with an ex-girlfriend I accidentally found on Facebook”¦even she doesn’t get it.
I can tell you—and I’ve told her this, trust me—that I’m on the verge of leaving her because, ladies and gentelmen, I really don’t need this nonsense. And I suspect that some of the men in the audience can probably relate to where I’m coming from?
My good friends, sociopaths really don’t get it.
And so often these perverse characters offer up glib explanations for their appalling behaviors. For example, my present spouse confronted me on the purely accidental nature of my latest liaison outside our marriage.
I remind you, just as I explained to her, that I found myself on Facebook one day and, intending to locate a childhood friend named Tommy who’d moved during Elementary School and whose whereabouts I’d always wondered about, I somehow, accidentally, ended up discovering my ex’s Facebook homepage.
Thinking, naturally, that it was Tommy’s Facebook page (it was his I was searching), I made an innocent friend request, fully expecting to hear back—hoping to hear back—from Tommy, when who should respond with a friend confirmation, but Sarah?
This should all have been enough explanation, but what did my insatiable wife want next? She demands to know how, even “accepting for the moment your lying bullshit,” I ended up screwing this ex-girlfriend for three months behind her back?
I’m laughing”¦.for the reason you can probably guess? What the hell does one thing have to do with the other? See how she’s trying to confuse me”¦jumping all over the map”¦manipulating me!
Sociopaths, my friends, are quite incapable of recognizing, or caring about, the depth and pattern of their abuse of others.
Exhibit A, my friends: each of my five ex-wives, plus the present one, all of whom, I’m convinced, have serious sociopathic traits.
Their contrivance of outrage, as I’ve suggested, upon discovering my countless infidelities during our marriages”¦come to think of it, it’s laughable.
That’s exactly why I’m laughing right now”¦ laughing out loud, and having trouble composing myself. It’s just so funny how sociopaths will contrive emotions to manipulate you.
Evidently my ex’s wanted me to feel guilt? I’m sorry, but I’m still laughing”¦it’s just so funny.
I mean my marriages, every one of them—and my wives themselves—grew so boring, tedious and predictable that—and you tell me—what option, realistically, was left but to search for something fresh and exciting?
And I’m sure you’d agree that a man like me, in these circumstances—and let’s be honest, any guy with a real set of balls—would have to be a fool, or else whipped beyond dignity, to begrudge himself relief from such oppression?
But I digress, I’m afraid.
Glib”¦.yes, I was mentioning the tendency of sociopaths to be glib. It’s good practice, my friends, to beware of glib personalities, because often a very dangerous insincerity lurks beneath the glibness”¦often the glibness is used to cover, to distract or divert from a manipulative agenda.
In other words, it’s not the glibness itself that’s problematic, so much as its function”¦which, so often, is to enable, through a form of obfuscation, an ulterior agenda.
Ladies and gentlemen, on that note, we are coming upon our first break. But wait”¦someone’s just straggled in, irresponsibly late.
Let’s let the gentleman take his seat. Maybe you can introduce yourself, first, sir?
“You owe me $50 f’ing thousand dollars, you asshole, and I’ll chase you down like Dog The Bounty Hunter till you pay up!!”
Excuse me, ladies and gentleman”¦this man must be confusing me with someone else? I apologize, on his behalf, for his rude disruption of our seminar.
Sir, I kindly ask that you”¦
“Knock off the bullshit, Ron! Why don’t you tell these kind people the criminal evasion you’ve been perpetrating on me and your own sister!”
My good friend, not only do I not know what you’re talking about, and not only have I never seen you in my whole life, but unless you leave the room at once, I’ll be forced to have security remove you.
I find it very creepy, sir, that you know my name, but I assure you that we don’t know each other, and whatever situation you’re alluding to is most certainly a figment of your delusional mind.
Yes, thank you, security, for removing this man at once. Yes, take him out kicking and screaming, and hurling his ugly threats. There he goes, ladies and gentlemen, kicking and screaming, removed by the courageous, well-prepared security guards. I’m so sorry for this untimely intrusion.
Have you noticed, my friends, or is it just me, that mental illness seems to be on the rise? It’s such a terrible shame the kinds of delusions people seem to be harboring and their growing tendency to impose them on us?
Well, if nothing else, that was pretty entertaining. I’ll have to check up later on that poor soul and make sure he was properly committed to the right institution.
It’s hard to know what to tell a guy like that, other than”¦next time you make a financial arrangement along the lines you were babbling about, make sure the contract’s drawn-up by attorneys. That way you avoid the kind of trouble he was ranting about so incoherently.
Strange how many people think they know me, and have accosted me over the years with outrageous, paranoid accusations.
I seem to have one of those faces that’s commonly mistaken for others.
Ladies and gentlemen, let us take our first break, and use the next few minutes to recover from the surprise appearance of that very sick man.
Feel free, of course, to purchase the books in the back”¦and more importantly, please approach me about becoming Class A investors in either of my two superstar hedge funds, both of which have yielded annualized returns of over 40% since 2004.
That makes Madoff’s returns look paltry, and he was cheating, whereas we—meaning me, and my accountant, Lucciano—operate strictly on the up and up.
And you”¦over there”¦yes, you”¦who’s glaring at me with that homicidal look”¦come on over and get your wallet.
(This article is copyrighted (c) 2009 by Steve Becker, LCSW)
I have taken my potted plant out of the noose, and put it back on the window sill, beside the gray rock.
I agree that not engaging probably would have been better for the LF community as a whole. But on a personal level, it was a gas! Sorry though, I can see that it was upsetting to a bunch of you.
Now, on that note, NO CONTACT BEGINS IN MY HEAD. OL’ Buffy is still sucking energy this morning, since ya’ll are still
conversing about him. Still giving him status, still letting him affect this cyber-space.
It may well be an excercise in futility, except that I found out how easily I’m baited………..I probably need to work on that.
Pinky-doodle is sleeping, peacefully, this AM. I think He’s exhausted, but satisfied.
Give Pinky doodle a kiss for me. Jasper and Dillon are both snuggled in their beds too. (they are my orange boys)
I’m all about learning. Last night was a bit of a learning experience, not so much from what the P did, but from the reactions to him.
So my potted plant is on a gray rock and my handy rope is wound up and hanging on a post.
I got no sleep last night, woke up at 3AM, but at least I used that time to fix the “Y” key on my keyboard.
these laptop keyboards are really a pain to fix once a key goes bad, but I fixed it all by myself!
Well, hello LF posters….this is where you all are….back from the brief experience of the aliens visit. 🙂 Great to see your potted plant is ok…I was worried about it. Remember: just because we cannot understand what someone is saying does not mean it’s deep. Truth is usually pretty clear and easy to understand. Now I have a rule in my mind that I go by and I try never to violate it….if I do not understand it and it feels wrong….I leave it alone. Man is the only creature that will override his gut feeling of danger…animals always move on it. I always move on it now….and it’s proving to be much safer.
Also, some things that seem ‘deep’ are actually just crap in a fancy package…I don’t spend time listening to it…one thing I can know from the get go…is horse manure….I’ve been a horse owner long enough to smell it….;)
I am actually enjoying my Rhett Butler attitude: Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn. Ahahahaha!
Thanks, TB, that is very good advise.
P motto: If you can’t dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with bull s–t……………………………….:)
Kim, as usual….girl, you are right on…and bottom line. *HIGH FIVE!
Hi everyone,
miss you……i took a few days break from LF…
i’m happy to say, i’m feeling stronger every day.
it’s been a week and a half since the P tried to contact me after his final DV injunction papers were signed off by the court. he called and emailed wanting to ‘pick up his shit, ASAP.’
i’ve maintained NC.
IF, and only IF, i have to have contact…should he confront me, i will play dumb (like him). all he did was tell me lies and/or handle any issue with avoidance or omission. SO, when he asks me for any of his shxx, i will shrug my shoulders, tilt my head out of curiousity, and nonchalantly say, ‘what are you talking about?’ inotherwords, i will act like i know nothing….and then, walk away (or call the police, if necessary).
i pray that i dont ever have to engage w/this P at any level. i refuse to let him know anything about me, get to me, and most particularly I DON’T WANT HIM TO SEE OR FEEL ANY EMOTION FROM ME…
JUST HOW COLD IS ICE!?!?!?!?!
Kim, that working on how easily we can be “baited” is a good thing, and some day we will all reach the NIRVANA of INDIFFERENCE, where as soon as we smell on, we DISENGAGE IMMEDIATELY without a single backward glance, the same way we would if we spotted a little garden snake in the grass…. not afraid of it, just don’t want to mess with it.
On HERE they can’t hurt us unless we let our emotions get tangled with them. In RL they CAN hurt us if we don’t spot them, or if we get emotionally involved before we realize what they are. HERE I don’t let ANYONE get between me and LF–this is MY HAPPY “HOME” ON THE WEG, and although it is not exclusively “mine” I’m not going to let someone else come in the house and ruin it for me.
thanks Oxy, I think I over indulged my inner P last night……………………I have a toxic hang-over.
Kim: you are so correct on feeling badly after dealing with them or them bringing that out in us. It makes us sick….and they feed on it. I never want to feel that way again…I can feel them baiting in a NY second and I want no part of it. I have spent/wasted enough years at that sick game and it’s just like my wise old N mom said: “you cannot make a purse outta a sow’s ear.”