Editor’s note: Lovefraud received the following letter from a reader, who we’ll call Matt.
I am a gay man and a criminal defense attorney. After 22 years in my business I though I had seen it all, heard it all, and knew it all when it came to the bad side of human nature. That was until 15 months ago when I became romantically involved with a sociopath.
Hook, Line and Sinker
July. I met “S” when I was facing 50, flying solo and fearing my own mortality — I had just come from signing my will. I walked into a bar and S homed in on me like a heat-seeking missile. He had a beautiful smile, but I remember how it never reached his eyes — they were laser intense, but flat and unblinking. A few drinks later and big pools of chemistry were forming under S and me. That night, he put the ”˜good’ in good night kiss.
August. S launched a full-blown charm offensive. In one week I was swept up in a whirlwind of romantic dinners and phenomenal sex — he made me feel like I was the best lover on earth.
At the end of the week I went on vacation. While I was checking into the hotel a florist showed up with a beautiful arrangement. I said to the desk clerk “Somebody got lucky.” He looked at the card, handed it over and said “Somebody did.” S had sent the arrangement. I fell for S like the proverbial ton of bricks.
Danger Will Robinson
September. The red flags began to pop all over the place. S refused to take me to parties because his ex would be there. S never left messages on my answering machine or voicemail. S never had me over to his apartment though he lived two blocks away. S was secretive in the extreme. But, I ignored the red flags because S was still showering me with attention and the sex was great.
October. Hindsight being 20/20, I could have walked out when S stood me up for a date. I would have walked out when S confessed that he had only broken up with his ex three weeks before me met, not a year earlier like he originally told me. And I should have walked out when S told me that he had been released from prison three weeks before we met.
But, before I could walk, S hit me hard and fast with the “pity play.” He “came clean” and told me how he got hooked on cocaine after his beloved mother was left brain-dead by a stroke. S was convicted of stealing paychecks from his employer to buy drugs. Then S began to sob and told me he didn’t want to “bring the problems that being an ex-con has to your doorstep because I love you.”
As odd as it sounds, S had been lucky. He was sentenced to a “shock incarceration facility” aka “scared straight boot camp,” instead of prison. S also served 10 months of a one-and-a-half to three year sentence and was then put on probation. Another stroke of luck.
If anyone should know from experience that all criminals and ex-cons lie and play people, it’s me. But, S stirred up the caretaker in me and I vowed to help him rebuild his life.
November. I was so besotted with S I ignored even more red flags. He repeatedly violated his probation by leaving the state without permission of his PO. He conned his group therapy leader into letting him out of his post-release program early. And when S informed me that “From here on in I’m only thinking about number one” — I was a fool not to take him at his word.
S finally introduced me to his “ex.” I now see that he was deliberately pitting the two of us against each other for his own amusement. S also did this to increase my jealousy. And it worked. I opened the financial taps. Each date became more lavish than the last.
December. S no longer wooed me with dinner and flowers. S wasn’t concerned about me or his problems. And why should he be? I had become S’s personal ATM, social director and lawyer. I had become S’s one-man Salvation Army.
Devalue and Discard
January. S chose New Year’s Eve to pick a fight with me for agreeing to spend the holiday with “his” friends without his consent (the fact that he had told them this was fine with him two days earlier escaped him). And I took all the abuse he heaped on me. Why? Because I was determined to win back the man I fell in love with.
February. I should have paid more attention to S’s choice of friends — and lack thereof. I threw him a catered birthday party. Forty of his friends said they would attend. Six showed. I actually hurt for him. It wasn’t until later I realized that this indicated how little his so-called friends and colleagues thought of him.
But I was asleep at the switch when S reestablished his friendship with his college roommate – who was also his “former” drug dealer. The night they reconnected S picked a fight with me in a bar. He stormed out and “broke-up” with me by text message.
S made me crazy that night. I walked around his block for eight hours straight. The next morning S finally let me into his apartment. Then S blamed me for his cashed paycheck being lifted from his back pocket and told me “I need your help to pay my February rent.” I agreed to “lend” him the money and wrote the check then and there for $1,550. Why? Because I was determined to win back the man I fell in love with.
March. I wondered where S’s family was. I remember when a friend of S’s said, “I never understood how S’s family, to a man, turned their backs on him when he was sent to prison,” Now I see that S had burned them so many times they cut S out of their lives. But, I didn’t. Why? Because I was determined to win back the man I fell in love with.
April. I took S to Washington, DC to see the cherry blossoms and to share with him a place that was special to me. S was overly eager to go to church. When we entered the sanctuary I learned the priest was S’s former partner (two exes ago). Shocked, I thought “I can’t believe he’s sandbagging a priest on the altar.” S thought it was hysterical. But, I hung on. Why? Because I was determined to win back the man I fell in love with.
May. S “needed my help” and handed me an envelope. A letter from his landlord threatening eviction. The landlord had rejected April’s rent check because S hadn’t paid February and March. I realized he had lied to me earlier and I had paid January’s rent. But, I didn’t ask any questions and agreed to “lend” him $3,750.
The abrupt personality changes, his constant lack of money. I knew from experience he was using again. But I rationalized it away. If he was using, he couldn’t pass the drug test run by his PO. Right? I ignored the fact that the system can be beat. And I didn’t call him on any of it. Why? Because I was determined to win back the man I fell in love with.
June. Weekend trips. Restaurant checks. Bar bills. Theatre tickets. I paid for it all. He went out of his way to ruin whatever I planned. I was going into debt. I felt more and more empty, more and more abused. I was in a relationship but had never felt more alone.
The more I gave, the more S withheld – Time together. Emotional availability. Sex. Love. And the more emotionally abusive he became. Why did I put up with it? Because I was determined to win back the man I had fallen in love with.
July. Our first anniversary. What was I celebrating? One year of emotional and physical exhaustion from dealing with his never ending dramas? One year of fearing his temper and was walking on eggshells?
S and I celebrated by returning to the “scene of the crime,” the bar where we had met. Over a champagne toast I handed him a ticket to Greece. He handed me an envelope saying “I’m going to need your help again.” Inside was another eviction notice.
This time I finally drew a line in the sand. I told S that I wouldn’t “help” him financially. The most I would do is walk him through the court process so he could represent himself and halt the eviction until we returned from Greece. Period.
The next day I did what I should have done early on — I combed every database I could — public (New York e.courts) and private (Lexis). I uncovered 15 judgments against S for nonpayment of credit cards, car loans, student loans, taxes, rent, and loans from friends and three more pending cases. Then it struck me — his secretiveness, desire to move, avoiding certain places — of the 18 people who sued, how many more hadn’t?
The Brain Fog Starts to Lift
August. I told S this trip to Greece was a chance for us to get back on track. We arrived in Greece. I promptly caught him stealing from a neighbor’s villa. His response? “They’re not going to miss it.” The weird grin on his face when he said it chilled me. Like I was the fool.
I would have put him on the next plane out, but he had the keys to my apartment. So, I spent the next two weeks watching him like a hawk, paying for everything and being made miserable in the process.
September. We returned. I changed my locks. The next day the judge ordered S to pay six months back rent by September 30th or the eviction would proceed. A friend told me that S was cruising bars and turning tricks. I knew there was no getting us back on track. I knew that we had no future together — our values were completely different. I knew I was never going to win back the man I fell in love with — that man was an illusion.
But, I still wasn’t ready to let go. I only curtailed contact, I didn’t cut it. I maintained sporadic contact. Big mistake.
October. Against my better judgment I went with S to his brother’s wedding. That day I went online and learned S had a court date that very morning regarding his eviction, but I didn’t say anything to see how he was going to play this.
Play it he did. The next night. In public. S deserved an Oscar for his performance — crying “how hard I’m trying to go straight,” how “I told my doctor he screwed up our love life with the beta-blockers he put me on,” how “my sister asked me if I was certain ”˜you were the one’ and I told her you were” and the capper, “last night my father told me that before the week is out, I’ll have to go home because he’s disconnecting my mother from life-support and going to let her die.”
That was the moment I finally realized I was being manipulated — no parent — no matter how monstrous, would say something like that at a child’s wedding.
S then asked for my “help” with the rent. I refused. And I realized I had to do something or this was never going to stop.
To Get Rid of a Sociopath, Become a Sociopath
November. I finally realized I needed to get S out of my life to save my own life. I turned off my compassion. My understanding. My love. And my guilt. This one-man Salvation Army declared war on S.
S launched his next attack a few nights later. My phone rang at 11:15 and I was asleep. It was S, talking word salad. Then S moved in for the kill — he told me he had to be in court the next morning and didn’t have all the rent money. He asked if I would take some his jewelry as collateral for a loan.
I didn’t have the money, and started to babble something about taking a cash advance on my credit card when I snapped to and stopped cold. I realized he was manipulating me. I cut him off and told him to go into court with what money he had, the jewelry to show the judge he had something to sell to raise cash and take his chances.
The end came two weeks ago. S called me at 4:45 PM on Friday and told me that the landlord had changed the locks. S said his employer would lend him 10 grand to pay his back rent, but his bank was closed until Monday. S then asked me to lend him 10 grand CASH until Monday. I said “NO.” Then S asked if he could crash at my place. I agreed to one night — I finally decided we were going to have it out once and for all.
S arrived bloated (15 pounds heavier since the last time I saw him — he had already packed on 45 pounds since the start of the year), reeking of alcohol, with dirty matted hair, and smelling sour. I thought was “he’s manipulating you into feeling sorry for him.”
He launched his pity play. “How the person I hate most in this world (employer) came through for me again” (translation — I failed him). S then upped the ante and told me his blood pressure was now 220 over 180, his doctor thought he had diabetes and was afraid he was going to have a stroke. And on. And on. And on.
After four hours I finally told S that I didn’t know what to do for him anymore. I told S that I was sure he was on cocaine and our relationship wasn’t working since my needs weren’t being met in the least. S told me, “I love you and want things to go back to the way they were in the beginning.” I told him “No, you want me to pay your bills while you do whatever you want while I wait for you to call or text me. Those days are over. It’s clear we want different things, so I think its best if we no longer see each other.”
Then came the moment of true irony. I told S that I expected him to pay back the money I lent him. S replied indignantly “I always pay my debts.” I just stood there looking at him and thinking, “We’re standing in my kitchen at 2:30 AM because you have been locked out of your apartment for not paying your rent.” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
The next morning I asked S if he wanted to take a shower. He refused. It dawned on me what S was up to — S was going to make the rounds, looking like he’d slept on a park bench and hit up everybody he could for cash. And then he was probably going to split.
Aftermath
Having read the stories of other Lovefraud bloggers, how they suffered at the hands of their sociopaths for years on end and ended up financially bankrupt, I know, on an intellectual level, that I got off relatively cheap. However, emotionally and physically, I feel like I’ve been hit by a freight train.
A friend of mine told me I must be incredibly strong to have withstood what S put me through — he said he would have snapped a long time ago. Strong? I don’t think so. If I were strong I never would have allowed S to cannibalize my life like I did. I would have stood up to him long ago. I would have gotten rid of him instead of hanging on.
I’m furious at S for using me and making a mockery of my beliefs and my love. I’m furious at myself for letting S do this to me. My friends and family can’t bear to hear another word about S. I expect to crawl over miles of broken glass on my stomach before they’ll ever listen to me again.
S hasn’t vanished yet. I suspect he’s still working his scam. He has started the smear campaign. Several nights after I ended it S started showing up at places I frequent and events I had bought tickets to. S ended up seated directly opposite me at one event (reserved seating). Once is a coincidence. Three times is stalking.
A psychiatrist I consult with periodically on my cases told me, “Don’t think S is going to go away easy. He knows how good he had it with you. And there’s only one way to beat him — NO CONTACT.” I got the same advice from my detective friend who also told me that I could get a restraining order. But, if anyone should know how worthless they are, it’s me. So, now I am constantly on guard and looking over my shoulder — and maintaining NO CONTACT.
The money I “lent” S? I know it’s gone for good. But S will be held accountable to a higher power — the IRS. I had the good sense to write “LOAN” on every check I wrote to S. And when I was taking care of one of the numerous problems S was too lazy to deal with himself, he gave me his social security number.
My accountant sent the first collection letter today. Two more will go out. And when S doesn’t respond — and he won’t — I’ll report his debt to me as uncollectible. I get the tax loss, S gets nailed for income. Hey, if it was good enough to bring down the sociopath Al Capone, it’s good enough for me to bring down my sociopath — S.
Matt–Perfect–Have You Had Controlling Parents? I laugh every time I read that title because the answer is such a big YES. I will absolutely get the book. Thanks!
Both my parents were controlling, but my father is the “winner.” After I described his behavior towards me this summer, a friend of mine said that he sounds like he has obsessive compulsive personality disorder. I looked it up and kept saying OMG, OMG, yes, plus he has anger problems and several other disorders to add to the mix.
Thanks again, I look forward to learning some more. I am amazed at how blind I am to my condition/situation. It is amazing how we believed the nut house was normal. I think it’s called survival.
God, a guy goes to bed early one night and he misses all the good stuff.
Stargarzer: our house is on Mykonos, which is one of the islands in the Cyclades of Greece. It is the one place on earth I can go to and get my center back. It is so peaceful to sit on our terrace and look out over the ocean and the nearby islands.
Since we don’t have a TV (would literally be all Greek to me) and ban cell phone usage (if you want to stress yourself out, please do so at the entrance to our complex) and don’t bother with newspapers while on holiday, it is truly an opportunity to regroup. Of course, my first order of business, when I return next year, is to perform an exorcism to rid the villa of the bad karma the S brought to it.
And, for what it’s worth, I suspect you’d be great company — especially since you’re willing to open your wallet. By the end of the trip I remember thinking about the S — “Surprise me. Just pay for one drink.”
The S was neither charming nor sexy, not only by the end of the trip, but well in advance of the trip. But, since I consider myself a man of his word, since I promised him the trip, I gave him the trip. Never again. Self preservation takes priority over promises.
Pearl:
Wait until you take the 65 question test at the front of the book. I answered “yes” to 63 out of the 65. When I gave the test to my youngest brother over the phone he made me stop and he went out to buy the book.
I also found the subtitles to each chapter most enlightening: (i.e. “When animals don’t want to raise their young they kill them. They don’t torture them for years on end.” or “I grew up in the worst concentration camp on earth where the guards were without mercy and the sentence was without end.”)
What is most enlightening about the book is, as I noted earlier, how he breaks it down into different types of control. Many of us on this site have commented on the eyes of the sociopath. In the book many of those interviewed commented on “the look” their parents gave them as a means of control. My mother’s look is still indelibly etched in my brain — her eyes would get slightly unfocused, and she would bite down on her tongue. There would be hell to pay if you didn’t pick up on it.
I’m starting to reread the book again. I think doing so will help me to understand how I got from one side of the bridge (parental control) to the other side of the bridge (sociopathic control).
Henry:
I remember in one of your posts you were trying to remember the name of the movie starring Suzanne Pleshette and it involved dauchsands (sp?) and a great dane. If memory serves me right, I think it was called something like “The Ugliest Dauchsand”. I seem to recall seeing it when I was a kid. Then again, based on the mind f*ck the S put me through, I could actually imagine I saw the movie and … never mind.
Well Matt … it’s good to see you have your sense of humor (LOL).
Peace. Stay centered.
A simple test for those who are thinking of getting back into the dating world.
A suitable candiate must have the “4 ations”:
1. Do they have habitation?
2. Do they have occupation?
3. Do they have education?
4. Do they have transportation?
Note: number 4 is negotiable if you live in a major metropolitan area –substitute can they pay for a cab/bus/subway.
May I have a show of hands as to how many of our ex-sociopaths didn’t pass this test?
Henry, you are dealing with 2 issues here. The first is the romantic breakup and the second is the assault by a psycopath. So I think your healing time will be slot longer than a “normal” romantic breakup.
Try and really nurse yourself and don’t try and hurry the healing. Try and reconnect with nature because when you are really down in the dumps – even a beautiful day can work wonders for your spirits.
Lead the life of a hedonist for a while, be selfish and self indulgent for a while and concentrate on the good things in life. See funny films, go out to nice restaurants and go to the theatre, take up a beautiful hobby.
After doing that for a while things will improve and your outlook lighten.
Good luck with it all.
Matt: My EX had all four. I’m still sitting on the fence is he was a ringer or just took advantage of the situation that my bosses and all the corrupt cronies were doing me under.
I’m sitting back to see how this all plays out… my fiance sells me out, both attorneys sell me out … everyone was so willing to jump on scums bandwagons. Go figure how selfish and greedy people can be.
Apparently it was only God and I that had a backbone in my situation.
Such fools all of them … the big boss no longer has the position of power, my bosses are no longer employed there (so no more power for them) … and all these FOOLS sold out … thinking that the bums would stay in their positions of power for ever!
It’s incredible. Absolutely incredible. I’m the only one that had any balls and I’m a female … against all these good ole boys.
It’s amazing how long the healing process is. There must be good books written about this – why we get so devastated, how we recover. Can anyone recommend one?
It really pisses me off how devastated I’ve been by this. I’m definitely better now than I was a few months ago, but I’m still not so good. I keep trying to remind myself that some really important soul repair work is coming out of this.
Healing Heart: You are already reading this site … what better read can you get? If anyone knows about what you are going through … it’s the rest of us (smile).
Peace.
You are absolutely right, Wini. This site has been my greatest friend and source of information since March/April when I first started reading. Hearing everybody write about their experiences – so many times I thought someone was writing my story, was dating my ex S. I couldn’t believe that other people had the exact same experience. There were Saturday nights that I spent 6-7 hours just reading reading reading archived blogs. And then I’d wake up on Sunday and read some more. This site has been critical in keeping me away from him. His lies are so much less believable, and his behavior is transparent now. Thank god for all of you.
Matt,
Your “4 ations” is a good thing to start with. It does’t mean that a person with all 4 ations isn’t a P. The psychopath I dated after my husband was killed was quite well off, not rich, but retired with a nice income, property, savings, and a home.
I would not consider dating anyone though who had a lack of any of the “4 ATIONS” as I am not looking for a dependent.
I just turned 62, so I am not exactly “prime meat” on the marriage market, there are like 50+ women my age for every one single guy and if you weed out the guys with 0-3 Ations, and then you weed out the losers and creeps from what is left, you are probably looking at LOTTO ODDS of me finding a guy that I would be interested in that would also be interested in me. Usually those guys 65-ish that I would be interested in can find some woman age 45 instead of one nearly 20 years older (me). That is just the FACTS and the STATISTICS, so when my P started “courting me” heavy (I had known him casually for about 10 years) I was flabbergasted and absolutely fell for it hook line and sinker. I swallowed the hook all the way down and in less than a month I was absolutely walking on air! I had over come the odds and found a second soul mate!!! WOW! How lucky was that?
Even my son D was in awe that this wonderful guy was paying serious court to me.
After about four months of this heaven on earth, things began to crack up and the pain started, and four months later, I broke it off, kicked him to the curb! It ripped my heart out again. I had lost my second “soul mate” in less than two years.
Financial INDEPENDENCE between any two people is in my estimation VERY IMPORTANT. I realize there are exceptions to this rule, but no one person should be the POCKET in any relationship and the other the CONSUMER except for stay at home moms with small children, and even then she should have funds available that are at her descretion.
I had known my late husband for 20 years before we married, we were great and close friends during that time, but before we married we signed a pre-nup written by some of the best attorneys in Beverly Hills. We wanted to avoid any problems down the road.
As it turned out, through the years we mingled our finances somewhat, but I always had that piece of paper, and so did he. If we had split up, we would have gone our separate ways with each of us intact what we had when we married. And, after he died there was no trouble from his kids, and there wouldn’t have been without the pre-nup, as they quite frankly like me much better than they do their mom who was quite abusive to them when they were at home (and afterwards).
There may have been a day when a woman was taken care of by the husband providing and she stayed home and took care of the kids and the house, but the law doesn’t take that view now in this country at least. No woman (or man) should be dependent upon the other for a living. Even if one party is very very wealthy and one not so wealthy, there should be some provision made so that the less financially able one is not “bound” financially to the other one without recourse.
I would never consider dating someone who was a total dependent on me or anyone else. And, I don’t want to be a dependent on anyone else either.