You can sit with a sociopath and know he’s a sociopath, and sit with someone who perpetrates the behaviors of the sociopath, even as comfortably as the sociopath does, and yet know he’s not a sociopath. How? How can you know?
Is it something intuitive? I address this from a clinical perspective, not a personal or intimate one. But still, I find it somewhat interesting to feel, or recognize, this distinction, and maybe you’ll find it more relevant than I imagine.
Of course, the history says a lot. Whenever you are dealing with someone who is raising his kids with some real love, holding down a job, paying his bills, not abusing his spouse and maintaining a history (past and present) of friendships, these are indicators that whatever else he is up to, he is probably not a sociopath.
And so, strangely enough, in sitting with an individual who is perpetrating “dubious” behaviors, and is doing so perhaps even as a lifestyle versus, say, as a sudden, temporary departure from his normal self —strangely enough, in sitting with such a person, one sometimes gets the sense if this individual, in his essence, is “clean,” or “dirty?” Meaning, is his dubious behavior reflective of a corrupt essence, or does it somehow feel divorced from his essence?
Depending on the answer, one’s experience of the individual can be dramatically, significantly different and diagnostically very telling.
If this sounds simplistic, even untenable, I understand; and yet I’ve found it to be–for me, at least–a rather reliable experiential factor in ruling-out sociopathy.
I’ve worked with individuals who have done, or are doing, some pretty rotten, disturbing things, yet who clearly are not sociopaths, whereas I’ve also worked with individuals whose behavioral resumes may favorably compare to the former individuals’, yet who clearly are sociopathic.
Now what do I mean by “clean?” Of course, I don’t mean it in a physical sense. I mean that the individual transmits a certain authenticity, a certain genuineness that the sociopath doesn’t. He also possesses what I’d describe, very importantly, as a willingness and capacity to be known. Further, he possesses the capacity to really own his suspect actions: he does not deny them; is less likely than the sociopath to rationalize them; and is less likely to blame others for the liberties he takes with them.
He may, or may not, feel guilt for what he does that he knows is wrong from an ethical (if not legal) standpoint; and it’s often the case that if he doesn’t feel guilt he won’t pretend that he does; and yet, unlike the sociopath, he may feel genuinely uncomfortable with his lack of guilt.
He may say something like, “I know I should feel guilty about this, but I don’t. I really don’t. Sometimes I wonder, is there something wrong with me?” And he will say and mean this sincerely.
Conversely, there is something, as we know, very slippery about the sociopath—slippery in the way he discusses, or evades, responsibility for his behaviors. The sociopath’s emotional superficiality becomes evident in the office fairly soon; and, for that reason, one grows bored with him, soon.
If he doesn’t feign guilt or regret for his actions—that is, even if he admits to feeling no guilt, notably he is neither uncomfortable with, nor curious about, his lack of guilt. (In contrast, as I suggested, the guiltless non-sociopath tends to be somewhat more struck by, and curious about, his guiltlessness.)
The sociopath, I can’t stress enough, is not someone you can get to know. This is a subtle, very revealing experience. Something obstructs the process of getting to know him. First of all, he does not make himself knowable in a genuine sense. He is not engagable at a deep enough, and genuine enough level, to be “known.”
It is surely also true that something else, something perhaps more elemental, obstructs here: the sociopath is gapingly missing personal substance. And personal substance is required to be known.
There is emptiness there, which nothing can fill. At best the smoother sociopath can disguise this massive deficit with superficially entertaining, diverting qualities. But in the clinical setting, these disguises are less effective, their effect shorter-term.
He can’t hide for long the fact that he can’t make himself known; or that, at bottom, there is so little of him to know. If he weren’t so sociopathic, he’d feel ashamed of this, mortified.
Of course if he felt that shame, that mortification, he wouldn’t be a sociopath.
(This article is copyrighted © 2011 by Steve Becker, LCSW. My use of male gender pronouns is for convenience’s sake and not to suggest that females aren’t capable of the attitudes and behaviors discussed.)
behind_blue_eyes
Candy;
When I was still in counseling, my therapist never really allowed me to talk about the x-spath, as he not only felt that I should concentrate on moving on, but there were other issues I needed to deal with. Since at the time i did not realize I was had encountered a sociopathy, I was somewhat embarrassed to even mention I still had recurring thoughts.
Thus, other than here, I was never able to explain to anyone my experience. But here, it comes out in dribs and drabs. For about a year, I have felt that maybe if I had a couple of sessions with a professional who not only understands sociopaths but has an interest in them, I might get the closure I am seeking. Somebody to validate my experience.
I think I have found that professional and he is only a short train ride away.
Ox Drover
Curious, I agree for reasons of research there are a lot of things that need to be taken into consideration….but I think that many times people like most of the bloggers here should stick to learning about the “primary colors” rather than trying to learn the “2,489”* shades of “blue” that are possible. (*that’s a made up number for demonstration purposes, don’t try this at home.)LOL
Thanks for your interesting posts.
Louise
BBE:
Good for you!! I am so happy to hear that!!
candy
Blue – I think you are right. We need to talk. We need to get it out but sometimes we don’t know what we need to get out (if that makes any sense)
I’m 9 months out of the realationshit and I still get the ‘aha’ moments so don’t be too hard on yourself.
Good luck with the new therapist.
behind_blue_eyes
Candy;
Thanks. I really don’t need therapy more than a couple sessions to put it all out there. Because of his subtle “pity play” I always have had lingering empathy towards him, also since he was not physically violent or financially abusive towards me. Just this manipulation and lies, all psychological…
candy
Blue – it’s all mind games. I had one hour of therapy. Yes it helped. She was very good and ‘got’ it.
I also had a lot of info from his ex which helped me to understand exactly how he ticks and what he did to me.
LF has been invaluable, it’s hard to explain what a lifesaver this site has been.
I sincerely hope you get the help and closure you are seeking.
behind_blue_eyes
Candy;
Probably take 3-4 hours for me 🙁
slimone
Great posts all.
I was struck, once again, by the idea of spaths being unknowable. I totally agree with this, and it is my absolute experience.
It is also a ‘feeling’, not just an experience. And I think I understand some of what Steve may be getting at.
When I look/feel back on the spaths that I knew more ‘intimately’ there was this tickly/niggling feeling in my gut of ALWAYS wanting more: to be let in, to be allowed to ‘enter’, as it were, their minds and hearts. AND that feeling NEVER went away. I believe that was THE point of ultimate frustration and sadness/depression for me. It also made me feel like an insecure junky!
One of the ‘men’ I was with said to me, ‘You know, I am giving you what SO many of my women have asked me for’. What he meant was hanging out at his house, ‘playing house’. Sleeping in his bed, cooking breakfast, calling me his girlfriend, having a few things at each other’s places. But something about it felt contrived. I kept wracking it up to a lack of experience and fierce individuality on his part. And for a short while I felt some possibility there. Like when you are young and first dabble at really being a couple.
However he could never do anything more than ‘play’ at something. And it wasn’t just playing house, it was playing-at-being- a-person-who-can-be-known. For me I felt that inability in him, and the boredom of superficial relating and NOT being able to actually get close, and it depressed the crap out of me. And it frustrated me because no matter how I tried, there was basically just the same level of relating every SINGLE moment. Over and over and over.
And I wouldn’t just feel disconnected from an authentic experience of them either. If I stayed too long I ultimately felt cut off from my OWN self-knowing. Of course this cutting off from myself, maybe, was that I was living a lie, with them, and trying to make it real. That is totally soul killing. It is painfully self-destructive. Because I had to DENY my own feelings and responses, my own SELF, in order to stay in the presence of these men (and women). I figure I did this for complex reasons, not the least of which is they seemed to posses something that might make what was ‘wrong’ right.
Perhaps with Steve’s experience as a therapist he has come to recognize this sometimes rather subtle experience and it’s accompanying feeling. Maybe not being emotionally invested can afford one the opportunity to feel some subtlties, that are otherwise difficult to hold on to and examine.
For me it took ‘getting close’, too close, and being personally adrift and out of touch with me, before I could separate and ‘see’ what I had ‘felt’ all along.
skylar
Slim,
You did a great job describing a certain type of spath. And I know it wasn’t easy. I’m particularly struck by how his avoidance of being real (all spaths avoid reality by telling lies), made you become less authentic yourself. It’s a spot on observation of the damage that the people of the lie do to us when we are exposed to them. I’m not sure that any psychological hygiene exists which can really protect us from that kind of psychological warfare.
My spath was slightly different. He was unknowable because he was so shallow, that there was nothing to know except the banality of evil.
But he had me fooled. I guess I was too young at 17 to know the difference between a real person and a facade. As I grew older, he just seemed like an old habit that I no longer questioned. He seemed real enough, even complex in some ways. It takes maturity to understand when we are seeing a lack of maturity.
That alone is an excellent reason to avoid marriage/bonding until you know YOURSELF.
Ana
Sky,
Remember the two words you came up with to describe the spath? I know the last one was MALICE, but for the life of me can’t remember the first word. Can ya tell me? Thanks.