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.
Issie:
I am in therapy now, largely due to my S. I also needed to find a site like this where there were others who could understand what an S is. The people in my life don’t understand and shake it off as just another bad relationship.
I can tell you that mine was not just another bad relationship and the truth here is setting me free.
SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY
Heres my story:
I checked out your site on dontdatehimgirl.com and felt impelled to write.
I have had a series of bad relationships but I truly feel that I have met satan in person.
I met my sociopath in Summer of 2007. It was a summer cruise and there he was this handsome, charming, genuine seeming man. He was neatly dressed in white and was on the cruise alone. I didn’t think anything of it at the time but I was drawn to his good looks and staggering way. I must mention that there were also a lot of other women who wanted to be in his company that summer night as well.
The first four months were perfect. I got flowers, candies, cards and taped I loves you on cassette. These messages on cassette would be timely place on top of soft playing music in the background. I though God had been awarding me for all the failed relationships I have had in my 33 years of life.
Well my life took a turn for the worse, my daughter killed her boyfriend. This man of armour came to my rescue. He was the spokesperson for me with the media, met all of my family, friends and was loved by all. My family members were jealous that I had what seemed to be a piece of heaven. He went to court with me, visit my dauighter in prison and then asked me to marry him. I was on cloud nine. Soon after we got pregnant, we found out we were having a boy and both of us were excited. We moved in together and combined all of our finances. We had a beautiful condo and combined our families. We both had children from previous relationships.
There were red flags but I was so in love, I did not see any wrong in this man. He was perfect to me. The sex stopped, he lost his job, and he started treating me like used goods. I started paying all the bills and taking care of all the children. My bills were being delayed because I didn’t make enough to pay everything. He moved his schizophrenic mother in the house and that was yet another responsibility (I didn’t know he was receiving social security for her). I started demanding that he help me out and he started to sleep out. He would give excuses that he was in the hospital and was too out of it to give me the information. When I doubted what he said, he cursed me out. Here I am left with his mother, his kids, and all the bills I started to lose it.
I will never forget the day when I went into his bank account and took 1/2 his social security money to pay for bills and he went into a violent rage that could have easily landed me in the hospital. He said he didn’t love me from that point on. He said we can stay in the condo but can no longer be a couple. I was miserable. I tried to stay thinking he would change his mind and that never happened so I left.
He was so happy that I left 6 months pregnant that he immediately crossed my name off the mailbox and continued to live rent free in the condo that was in my name. He told his children that he didn’t know why I left but they were better off without me. He told them that I was crazy and that I was stealing from their piggy bank and that I killed their hamster. He even called the police to tell them that to secure that I would not be able to come back to condo that was in my name.
Now with my credit rating down the hole, the leasing company taking me to court for $12000 and unpaid utilities I was ruined. Six months after the fact, I was able to get him out of my condo and turn it over to leasing co. I am trying to pick up the pieces in this new financial place of dispair in which I have never been before.
Our beautiful son was born three months ago but since my sociopath left to a wife of 15 years that I never knew about, I never seen him again. He also fathered 6 other kids he never mentioned out in the world that he also didn’t care for. His wife who never met me and wasn’t there to see me and him in action is so defensive over him and has attacked me as well. She says things like he only used me while she was mad at him and that he hates me and my baby. She even tried to get me arrested for harassing him. The authorities stated to her that the sociopath needs to make complaint to family court if there is a problem. He has to ask courts for an order of protection. The only communication we have is through court. He has been moving around to avoid being served with court proceedings for paternity. When I did try to contact him it was only to ask him to care for his son financially but he doesn’t care. He just doesn’t want to hear from me at all, not even to be served with court papers.
This is only the short version of the actual story but hopefully you catch my drift.
I am in therapy and working on picking up the pieces but I almost took my own life because I thought this was all my fault and I couldn’t move past that point. When I started reading sites like yours and coming back to myself I realize that this man is sick and he did me a favour by disappearing. I don’t want to teach my son to be like him so I give him so much love and pray that GOd has provided him with my heart, emotions, and empathy.
For More details; my website is (please feel free to visit me there):
http://www.whenyoucryicry.com
Dear HWS, LOL Tht’s a good one! “Salvation Army” I think we are an ARMY and we sure tried to “save” the unsaveable at our own expense! Good analogy!
Dear Matt,
You are among “good company” here there are lots of smart, professional good people here who have also been conned, welcome to our ranks—just sorry that you qualify for this club! But, if you have to qualify, this is a good one to join, as there is knowledge, healing and support here. Again, welcome!
Thanks for sharing your story. I’m so sorry you had to go through that. It was the good qualities in you that made you hang in there. And the very human need for love, the capacity to forgive, etc. I hope you aren’t beating yourself up the way I did for taking them back, taking them back. We were engaged in a battle that we didn’t even know was going on, really. If we had known they were never going to change, etc. that they were playing a game all about control, etc…well, we would have ended the game! Next time we know to check more carefully, but that is like a person who has been raped learning physical defense moves after the fact…..it is still not their fault that they got raped before, but good to be empowered for the future. But the rapist is the problem. And our souls were raped.
This country just has no clue how to deal w/the losses-monetary & everything else you lose(homes, cars, your soul, etc.). I know I will never be able to recoup the losses i have. Before I met my ex s., I had no debts, no credit cards, & had bounced 1 check in my whole life. Now at 54 years old, I had to have my 25 year old co-sign a loan when I had to trade in my car. That was the most humiliating thing. I still get financial help from my son, which is so not right to me. Any other crime that is committed in this country has a punishment attached to it, why isn’t total soul & heart annihilation included? ..Because the heart & soul aren’t tangible assets?
sstiles54 When someone here at love fruad say’s something about spaths having horrible credit – I cringe – I have always had good credit until a year ago and now I couldnt get a loan for anything. It’s a good thing I had put my home and land in my son’s name year’s ago or I would prolly be sittin under a bridge now and Mike and his new flame would be splashing around in my pool. No I would be in prison before I would of let that happen. As far as the financial damage he has caused and seem’s he is still doing something fraudulent with ins. that does not bother me as much as the damage he has done to my heart and soul – but I am mending sstiles54 and so will you..
if I had a dollar for every time someone called me strong after they heard my story, I’d be rich. I don’t know what triggers many people to say that to someone after a trauma like this. Maybe it’s more of a cheer like “you are strong, you can get through it!!” raw raw I don’t know why they say it, that is just my guess.
Hi Bird:
Did you give the ex’s girlfriend your Christmas list? I say give them what they asked for..a long list of expensive stuff. Wouldn’t it be fun to make them pay just a little?
Dear Bird,
Almost everyone that knows me thinks and says how “strong” I am, and I never felt strong, but I have changed my thinking, maybe this will help you too, because I THINK YOU ARE STRONG!!!!
My P-bio-father’s worst “curse” was to call someone a coward. His definition of a coward was someone who was FEARFUL. Well, I went along with that for a long time, but I finally saw the TRUE definition of the word “courage”—
Courage is to not ever be afraid, courage, true courage is to be scared chitless and STILL DO WHAT IS NECESSARY.
Bird, I can’t even begin to imagine how you must have felt when that creep walked out on you while you were 6 months preg. I can only tryto imagine what you must have been fearful about. “How will I get throughthis alone? How will I raise this child alone? Who will help me?” etc etc. You were I can imagine scared to death.
BUT–you still did what was necessary to care for yourself and the Baby Birdie. You are working, and being a parent too, a single parent, and you are tired from time to time, and still scared some times but you do what is neccessary.
THAT IS STRENGTH AND COURAGE, THAT IS BRAVERY!
I realize that though I have many times been afraid, been terrified, I STILL DID WHAT HAD TO BE DONE, no matter how it would have made me feel better to curl up in the fetal position and just lie there afraid and cowering.
I AM STRONG. YOU ARE STRONG. WE TOGETHER ARE EVEN STRONGER. They are the cowards, because they feel no fear, they have no fear and they STILL CAN’T DO WHAT IS RIGHT. They have no courage, no stamina and no emotion that is not based on anger, greed, rage or some base instinct.
TOWANDA!!!!!
henry-I hear ya! My ex’s idea of taking care of the bills was to bury them in the trash can before I got home from work, & then tell me they were taken care of. I didn’t have kids old enough to sign any of my stuff over to at the time, so it’s just gone. If what Janis Joplin sings , “Freedom’s just another word for nuthin’ left to lose”, then we all should be the the free-est f-ing bunch of people there are! LOL
lmao you crack me up~~~!!!