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.
Hey Wini – when did you start feeling better – I mean really better? Like you no longer felt bitter? I get the sense we never fully shake this – but when do you stop feeling bad? I guess its different for everyone – but I’m trying to learn everything can, and other people’s stories do help me.
Healing Heart: My situation is different from most of the bloggers. Not with the respect of our EXs … that’s the same except I didn’t know he was one until he took off at the end … he was always pretending to be working and starting up his new business venture.
I learned about the likes of them in 1980 when I started working with anti-socials. Where I worked, it was filled with them. One, worse than the other.
Then in the summer of 1998, my bosses slowly started working on me to use me as a reason to get rid of the position I held. It was new, and my big boss was stuck with it under her roof. So, she and my immediate boss devised a scheme to destroy my work and blame me for it not getting off the ground. It was killing 2 birds with one stone sort to speak. Getting rid of what I did for a living … then not having it under her regime. There was also something that happened between she and I back in 1981 I believe it was. I was a union steward that represented an employee working for her. I won the grievance hands down and she never forgave me for it. So, she waited all those years to nail me on for winning that grievance. She’s definitely an anti-social personality … so the grievance was no longer the grievance of her subordinates … it was between her and I … and had nothing to do with specifics … at least in her mind.
Anyway, to make a long story short … I read many books on managerial styles because these lower level managers I worked for in my 20s were so bizarre and off the wall … and there is a managerial style that rules through chaos and that’s what they did … ran their offices through chaos. Everyone gets kicked in the butt … it goes full circle and everyone is degraded and pulled apart. While everyone pays attention to being dumped on … it’s a way that LAZY managers don’t have to be creative … they just beat on their employees (emotionally) and while the employees are licking their wounds they are basically helpless. Well, a year comes around and it’s my turn again. I said to the big boss … (me big mouth and honest) “I’m not playing this game, you kicked me in the butt last year and I didn’t do anything to deserve it … then I’m sitting back watching everyone I work with … and one by one, this one gets kicked in the butt … then sits back and licks their wounds for a year … and this one is getting kicked in the butt … and licks their wounds for a year … and so on and so forth … so now it’s my turn again … AND I’M NOT PLAYING”… The big boss looks at me and says “Wini, you know this”? I said “sure I know this, and I’m not playing”. Well, you never tell jerks, they are jerks, because they are JERKS. Not smart on my part being honest with anti-social personalities.
Still trying to make this story short. I was in a lawsuit with my managers for 6 years. Six years that they got to beat me up, insult me, talk down to me, make up stories that I filed grievances on … that never would be resolved, not only because they made them up … but they never put my grievances through the grievance procedures process. That’s how sure they were that I would collapse like a house of cards from all their abuse. So, while they were beating me up … either my fiance was a ringer for them or just used what they were doing to me to take everything from me … which he did.
Anyway, bottom line is … I have always been very well versed on anti-social personalities because of where I worked … and when I found out what my fiance was all about … I was shocked, but not an initial shock like all the rest of you got …being it’s your first time. If this makes sense to any of you.
I already knew for over 24 years … that they are useless individuals that lie and cheat and steal and are very selfish, self absorbed and anything goes with them … how low they go today, they can always and will always go lower.
I guess it’s just knowledge is power. So, it was easier for me to deal with what my fiance did. Not that he doesn’t deserve to be in prison for about 20-30 years.
Peace.
Healing Heart: The other reason is because I had very decent parents … and my DAD was unconditionally loving … to everyone, not just me because I was his child. So that’s my reference point with others. I realize that my parents were never abusive and loved me because I was their child. Therefore, I have a very good gage for decency versus off the wall behavior.
My EX on the other hand deserves an academy award. What amazes me is this guy can act loving, caring, decent and nice. If you can act the part, why not be the part? Go figure.
Bernard—Thanks for sharing your story. You sound like us: We never expected to be posting here either.
I understand where you’re coming from and I understand the point THe Peregrine is making. I think you are both correct, depending upon the circumstances.
Thank you Healing heart,
Yes, my situation is a BIT different in that my Ps are physically DANGEROUS, my bio-father (now dead) was dangerous and my P-son as long as he lives with be dangerous and he hates me with a purple passion. Even if he can’t get what he wants (money) he would kill me just for the revenge aspect of it. It is about dominance and control I think, he can’t bear to be “out smarted” or “out manuvered” by anyone, and especially ME.
I guess in a way that is a “blue ribbon” in that I have no always let him “win” but what have I “won”—not much. I have preserved my life and that is a good thing I think. I am also a very stubborn old biddy and once I sink my teeth into a bone I am not easily removed from holding on, and at this point in my life, I am going to LIVE MY LIFE to the best of my ability and preserve it as long as I can, but I will NOT live in “terror” either. I know I can’t accomplish everything, and sometimes it is an uphill battle, like trying to keep the Trojan Horse in prison and not letting him out on parole, but I did the best I could, so I am just doing the best I can day by day.
I thought long and hard about sending the warden at my son’s prison the letter my son C got from my mom’s house, but finally decided that the BEST thing was to send it, and if my son does find out (and he will tell my mother) what have I LOST? My son hates me MORE? Or my mom loves me less? Or she lies less to my son C? LOL Not a lot to lose, really.
I decided that taking action and reporting a probable FELONY to the authorities was more important than worrying about what if he found out, or what if my mom found out.
Interestingly enough, I got a letter the other day from a “friend” of his that I used to write to. All of his friends that I have met and dealt with I am now convinced are also psychopaths. This man, I’ll call him Joe is supposedly in prison and is innocent of his crime that he is in for. I think he also has a long list of prior criminal acts though. It is true that the Houston Innocence project has taken on his current case for murder and are trying to get him released, a new trial, etc. That group does NOT take on cases that they do not with good evidence think th eperson is actually INNOCENT of the crime (murder in this case) so he may actually be innocent of THAT case, but I do not doubt that he has a long history of OTHER criminal acts that he served time for before this case.
In any case I think my son asked him to write to me as he mentioned he had heard from another inmate friend of son Ps that we had a “falling out.” So I think this letter is a way for my son to get information from me about “where I stand” on things. I am sure he is dying to know the cards in my “hand.”
I have thought about answering the letter with some DIS-information, but am not sure what I am going to do about this letter. I may not do anything about it, I may just let it slide. I am thinking carefully before I do anything I might regret later. I know this man, if he has any loyalty at all, it is to my son, not to me.
The whole thing has been so much drama that at this point I am cautious of making any move that is not well thought out in advance wth the risk vs benefit ratio in mind. I don’t intend to “play fair” with a psychopath, and anything I can use to tip the scales in my own favor is worth while as long as it is something I can justify to my conscience. I don’t have to lie about him, but I don’t have to tip my hand to him either. And, if I can lead him off the path with dis-information I will.
just want to say reading your posts have taught me alot>never knew these people or things actually exsisted until do some research>kinda felt sorry for abandoning the kid >but now realize it didnt matter to him anyhow>was becoming like a third child and a needy one at that
Bernard: Yup!
Of course you’re right, OxDrover, and yet I think it’s important to acknowledge (to yourself, at least) that this is a choice you make, staying entangled in such ways with your son. The persistence and infinite drama generated by a sociopath keeps everyone around them in their orbit and, one way or another, at their service.
Even when we do things in the interest of being a good citizen, assuring that they won’t hurt others, we are using time and energy that we will never have again. God bless you for being a responsible parent and doing that, but I grieve when I think of all the good work we could do if we moved out of the sphere of the sociopath’s influence.
I learned three words that struck fear in the heart of the sociopath who tormented me: “So you say.” When she knew I no longer believed her, though, she turned to discrediting me in the eyes of people I cared about. The solution to that was difficult but necessary for me: The people who stood by me, believed in me, are today my friends; the others are former friends. It wasn’t my choice as much as it was theirs, and I feel no loss or remorse for cutting those people out of my life.
My life is better for all this. Occasionally, I run into another person I suspect of being a sociopath. But those people never get anywhere with me, and they quickly move on to find another victim. My boundaries are very clear, and in the end that’s what this is all about. The sociopath is taking liberties with people, stomping all over the appropriate social boundaries that most of us respect. That’s why so many of them land in prison.
Argh. Tough day today. Everytime I start feeling like “hey, I’m doing okay,” I have a setback. My ex-S snuck a Xmas card into my mail. He didn’t put a return address, and mailed it from a different part of the city….so I opened it, not knowing from whom it was sent. And once I started reading I couldn’t stop. He said how sorry he was for everything he did, how much he misses me and loves me, and how he thinks about me all the time. This has me feeling so sad. Part of me wants to reach out to him and say “I miss you so much too” and find some way to believe he really is sorry, that he really does love me. But then I remember how abusive he was, how often he cheated on me, and how he yelled, swore, screamed that I was “suffocating” him when I asked him to actually spend some time with me. And then I feel furious. I just feel so screwed up, and so angry that he has a hold on me. I hate the way I am now. I feel like this mangled, weak, human being. Dammit. I felt okay yesterday – actually felt pretty good. And now I feel so lousy.
healing heart: when my ex left me my mom said something to me that really helped. when i told her that he had gotten away with treating everyone like a pawn in his game, that he got away with everything he ever did, that he has NEVER been disciplined, put in check, cheated on by the myriad of women he cheated on, that he has never been told ‘no’ by anyone, that he has been able to use everyone for whatever he wanted, she replied:
well, then, it seems that YOU will be the first one to put him in his place, to say ‘no’!
sometimes, when i’m down, it helps me to know that my absolute NC (four months now) is MY win.
even though he may be happy without me, or miserable without me (and lord knows i’m one curious person), at least i have made it clear that he will never again have my love, my money, my body … whatever it is he might want.
hope that helps.