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.
Dear Matt,
Do you think your experience representing criminals was part of what put you at risk?
The more people deal with Ss the less apparent the differences between Ss and the rest of humanity becomes.
Dear Matt,
“an innocent, comatose woman…”
Comatose. I think that’s your answer. Give thanks that she doesn’t know, and drive on. She won’t miss the flowers. She’s beyond communicating with.
As my paternal Grandmother slipped away to blindness and Alzheimer’s disease, I found that the pleasures I could give her became simpler and simpler. During the first few years she enjoyed listening to folk music and wearing her favorite perfumes. In the middle years she enjoyed having her snow white hair brushed and corn rowed. During the last few years, she enjoyed slurping down a Wendy’s Frosty with a straw. In the last few months I was deployed. I came back after her death feeling guilty, but the nurses assured me she had been beyond the reach of any earthly pleasure. Sometimes that’s a blessing. Be at peace with the decision to break contact with the S’s mother. It’s for the best.
I hate that you’re going through the smear campaign stage of breaking it off with the S. I feel for you. Hang in there. I suggest that you try not to let the S’s dupes hurt you. Let NC extend to your conversations. Simply decline to talk about the S. Talking about the S gives him rent free space in your head and grants him an undeserved place in your social life.
My strategy is to encourage the dupe to talk about him/herself. This usually works. If the dupe is above this, encourage him/her to talk about their pet charity or project. Don’t get mad at the dupes. It’s understandably human that they are falling for his ploys.
One of the ways that you can “win” is by being an oasis of calm for others during the holiday season. You’re an excellent communicator, and you’re no stranger to strategy. If you can turn conversations away from conflict and toward Peace, people will be grateful. The innately joyful people will be relieved that you’re not a drain on their reserves, and the high conflict people won’t know what hit them. I know, high conflict people think they want to talk to you about the S and your shortcomings, the awful lines in the stores or their worst Christmas memories, but they actually crave Peace. They want to reconnect with their Joy and the simple pleasures of life, but they don’t know how. If you can walk them through the process, if only for a few minutes or an hour, they will love you forever.
You could come through the holiday season smear campaign smelling like a rose.
“Confusion to Your Enemies!”
Elizabeth
Hey Matt, if it’s an consolation to you … I had to endure 6 years of daily smear campaigns against me in the work environment. Every game player in my place of employment took their ridiculous shots at me. There was no where I could turn except to open my Bible daily and pray to God.
I had to prepare my self psychologically each and every morning to face my managers, supervisors and some of the co-workers that gladly jumped on the managers bandwagon to get me to collapse. If I collapsed at work, they had me, they could claim that I was not fit to be in work. If I spoke out against what they were doing to me … they had me for insubordination. If I looked cross eyed at them, they had me on insubordination. Believe me, those 6 years were more like 60 years.
Look at the bright side with your EX … who cares what she says about you … you don’t have to let her in your space to even have to care about it. Anyone duped into believing her … she’s now their problem. I wish warning folks about the likes of them works … some people can hear your warning, others just chalk it up to you being jilted.
Just pray for everyone involved.
Peace.
Dear Matt,
yea, the old “smear campaign”! They all do it and if they are in your social circle it can get really nasty.
I like the “Ann Landers” approach to it. She had some really good put down and put a stop-to-it lines.
If the dupe asks a question that you don’t want to answer, then you just look at them in a “puzzled” way and ask back, “Now WHY would you ask that?” Alternately, “Now WHY would you want to know that?”
For you as an attorney, another great one would be “Oh, tell me more of what he said!, I’m getting witnesses for the law suit I am going to file against him, you would be a GREAT witness.”
Another great one that we use here in the south is, “Well, if you think that is bad, you should have heard what he said about you.” Then laugh and walk off. If the guy is straight, that may really get him twisting!
Seriously, keep your sense of humor about this, I know it is difficult to hear the lies and not retaliate or scream. I am well known in my small community and my own mother (a dupe and an enabling participant) and the maid that works for her have told everyone in our community that I was trying to steal her money. This will give you a laugh, even her lawyer’s secretary was screaming at me for “abusing” my mother as I was in the waiting room, and I am sure that old bat has worked her jaw like a trip hammer all over town. LOL
At the time it was very painful, but I’m at a point now that enough of it has come back to me, and I have reacted (badly at least emotionally if not openly) that I’ve had enough practice now that I realize that I don’t really care what these people think about me—they “don’t pay my rent,” they don’t pay anything, and they don’t really effect my life. The people who DO count in my life KNOW THE TRUTH, and would not believe what is being said if they had a VIDEO of it, because they know me better.
First, I don’t need or want my “mother’s money,” and secondly, they know I am so independent that I would live in a tent and eat out of a dumpster before I would take a dime from my mother as a GIFT.
So I should care what the ones who don’t know me think WHY?
The Betrayal Bond is INCREDIBLE! I went straight to chapter 5. The confusion and denial we have as adults originated as children when we had to survive a trauma. “These defenses are highly adaptive in childhood, because they permit the child to survive in an abusive family. In adulthood the defenses become maladaptive, because they prevent the survivor from accurately perceiving the presence or absence of abuse.”
The best part for me starts on page 124, where the author lists common compulsive relationship patterns that started out as survival strategies while were children. I will just list them here, (but I really need to explore each one in detail, for my own well-being):
Compulsive focus on the abuser
Compulsive self-reliance
Compulsive caregiving
Compulsive care-seeking
Compulsive rejection
Compulsive compliance
Compulsive identification with others
Compulsive reality distortion
Compulsive abuse seeking
Compulsive helplessness
We were doing this as kids. Yes, I have to admit I did alot of these to survive living with my parents. Even now, it is hard to admit I was “abused” because I wasn’t beaten by a parent in a drunken rage, which was my earlier definition of abuse. I was whipped by angry parents, felt humiliated, became an expert at noticing and responding to the moods of my parents, etc. but I didn’t know this was “abuse.” I thought it was normal.
Matt–CHECK THIS OUT—compulsive reality distortion: the victim will persist in not seeing abuse as abuse. Excuses, rationalization, minimization and other defenses combine to allow the endurance of more pain and exploitation. In part, this comes from the deep wish that the story or promise of the perpetrator be true. In adults, it means ignoring the obvious. Wow—
This is so awesome, I have to post an excerpt from The Betrayal Bond:
Compulsive relationship patterns that start as survival strategies for the child:
Compulsive focus on the abuser—for survival’s sake, the child becomes an “expert” on the abuser. What the child wants or needs become subservient to the caregiver’s moods. Thus the child loses the sense of self and identifies with the source of fear. As an adult, the person will obsess about anyone with power over her and do whatever she can to control what happens.
Compulsive helplessness—the child is so focused on the adult and the abuse, she does not learn to master her environment or take care of herself well. Therapists refer to this uninvolved state as learned helplessness, or inattention. They irritate others because they do not notice what needs to be done. Adults with this pattern face constant chaos because they do not act for themselves and do not provide their basic needs. They seem oblivious until there is a crisis.
Compulsive self-reliance—As an alternative strategy to the first two options, the child will become excessively self-reliant. No needs are expresses. No help is asked or accepted. Alll affection and closeness are avoided. As an adult the victim will use self-sufficiency as a defense against needing others.
Compulsive caregiving—Priority is placed on the needs of the others, with feelings of martyrdom and resentment resulting. Self-sacrifice goes to the extreme. Care is supplied whether requested or not, whether needed or not. As adults, victims become burdensome and easily exploitable.
Compulsive care-seeking—problems are presented so that care will be received. Relationships are defined by those who can supply assistance. The victim expects others to assume responsibility for major areas of life. The only way anyone gets close to the victim is by providing help. As adults, victims will always present the latest problem as a reason to have a relationship.
Compulsive rejection—extreme negative reactions result from perceived unavailability of or lack of response by the caregiver or abuser. Often a generalized anger occurs on the principle of “I will reject you before you have a chance to reject me.” Such emotional violence simply echoes a violent home life. In adults, this emotional volatility can become a way of victimizing others.
Compulsive compliance—this is a placating stance in which being extremely agreeable provides protection from more abuse. No wish is challenged. Resistance is token. No boundaries exist. As adults, these people commit to things they do not wish to do, provide information they should not provide, and do things that are self-destructive, uncomfortable or dangerous simply because someone asked them.
Compulsive identification with others—this person can easily be sold a “bill of goods.” He or she has instant sympathy for even the most patent lies, tales of insanity, stories of hardship and seduction strategies. Victim may even have the capacity to see through the seduction, but in the presence of the perpetrator they get carried away by the story. Their gullibility produces personal loss and constant chaos. They are especially irritating to others because they will never negotiate on their own behalf.
Compulsive reality distortion-the victim will persist in not seeing abuse as abuse. Excuses, rationalization, minimization and other defenses combine to allow the endurance of more pain and exploitation. In part, this comes from the deep wish that the story or promise of the perpetrator be true. In adults, it means ignoring the obvious.
Compulsive abuse seeking—the victim sets up relations to repeat the same patterns of abuse. This creates familiar binds, neurochemistry and coping strategies. For a relationship to work, it must comply with the original abuse scenario. What can vary if the amount of risk and intensity. Adults may combine a number of abuse scenarios to get the desired effect.
Liane: I’ve thought a lot about whether my experience representing criminals led to my failure to recognize the S as a sociopath. I know that when it comes to my professional life I have always managed to maintain a healthy degree of detachment and skepticism when it comes to my clients. So, I don’t think that had any bearing on what came to pass.
When it comes to my personal life, that’s another story.
I grew up in a house with two highly successful, but alcoholic, N parents. I now realize that I’ve been guilty of the “compulsive reality distortion” along with a solid dose of “compulsive focus on the abuser” which Pearl discusses in her posts. A lifelong friend of mine calls me “Daddy to the World.” That’s an accurate assessment since from an early age I was conditioned to burying my own needs, wants, etc. because I was forced to focus entirely on my parents, as well as making excuses for the abuse.
Another friend of mine says I walk into a room and telegraph self-confidence, which in his opinion draws truly troubled people like the S to me like a magnet.
However, as I’ve since discovered, you can only keep things bottled up for so long. The night I met the S, I think I had reached my limit of denying my needs for 50 years and was absolutely desperate for somebody to pay me the attention and give me the love I was craving and had been craving for so long. Unfortunately for me, the person who gave me all that attention was the S.
Elizabeth Conley, Wini and Ox Drover: Thanks all for the advice on dealing with the smear campaign. I always used to say that I had a hide as thick as a rhinocerous from growing up with two abusive parents and that insults would just roll off my back. However, the S’s smear campaign really hurts. Maybe its because I made myself emotionally vulnerable to the S — I usually keep people at arm’s length. I figure his campaign will run it’s course — or people will figure out he’s the avaricious piece of sewage I know he really is.
Elizabeth Conley: Also thanks for the advice on what I should do with S’s mother. The one sense that was remotely registering on her brain scans was olfactory — so I always sent aromatic flowers like Casablanca lillies. I think in my mind I saw this as one the only pleasure she had left to her. But, I know you’re right — she is beyond communicating with and won’t miss the flowers.
Pearl: what a lethal psychological combination I’ve got — “compulsive reality distortion” with a large dollop of “compulsive focus on the abuser”.
I look back at the 15 months (I think in S time 1 month = 1 year) with S and realize that when I met S I thrived on his attention since he was focused on me and my needs — first time in my life, that had happened. As S’s abuse escalated, I rationalized it away and focused solely on him and his needs. Seeing it in black and white, it all seems so clear what was taking place. Talk about a case of explaining the obvious to the oblivious.
Matt: The way I look at all this is – AT LEAST WE AREN’T ANYTHING LIKE OUR EXs.
We are living the way God wants us to live.
Peace.
Wini: AMEN!!