The Charm Of A Psychopath

Charming is charming. A true psychopath, one that has been diagnosed, will be able to disarm a person’s will and have them become enamored of their words and actions. They can do no wrong and others will actually make excuses for their errant deeds.

After living with one for 8 years, I saw it happen over and over again. Unless the other person is truly schooled in what a psychopath is, such as a psychiatrist, a psychologist or a judge who has had dealings with them and has educated themselves about their ways, a psychopath will attempt to pull the wool over their eyes.

They can do so quite easily. They hone in on the other persons wants, needs and words and parrot them back so they are in sync with them immediately. This causes a symbiosis with the other person that “feels good” at the time, kind of a deja vu, but the other person doesn’t realize that the psychopath is simply parroting back. They think that they’ve found a person who is very much like them, who lives in their world, who follows their social mores, laughs at their jokes and believes whatever it is they are talking about.

So a complacency with yourself but also with the other person begins. You find this other person quite charming, because, after all, they are just like you and they find you absolutely perfect.

They’re highly considerate of what you are saying, which is why they are listening attentively, because they must parrot it back. They appear confident, humorous, kind, a people-person, not wanting to seek attention to themselves and positive. All good qualities. All fake qualities that they have honed through the years. But underneath it all, lies a dark person that is scheming to figure out what they can get out of you and how you can fill a void in their sick, twisted mind.

They will go on like this for a short few weeks if it is to be a romantic relationship. You’ll wonder how could it be so wonderful so quickly. It isn’t. The psychopath is doing their job, that’s all. Or if they need to convince someone they’ve simply done their homework and will twist a conversation but the other person will never realize what has happened.

The psychopath is slick. They plan. Remember, they’ve been doing their work for years on others. You aren’t the first to come along and you won’t be the last. Everyone is a mark to them. Until they no longer need that mark. And that’s when the true danger begins.

Peace.

Sorceress.

All works past, present and future are protected under a CCC. Creative Common License, Kaarie Blake Musings by Kaarie Blake is licensed under a Creative Common Attribution-Noncommercial-Noderivs-3.0-Unported License.

 

Survival Of A Psychopath(With Borderline Tendencies…She Must Have Stalked Me, Your Honor)

I’ve taken a break from writing this blog about Daniel. I’ve needed a much-deserved break. Writing about him, writing about his mental illness, writing about his victimization of people is a difficult task. Separating pity from detailing information is my first priority for my readers. There should never be pity, but there always should be compassion and empathy for victims and Survivors of abusers. Abusers, psychopaths, compulsive liars, sociopaths are manipulators and con artists. They will twist and turn the truth to their willing audiences. They will parrot information back to their listeners easily to make the other person their ally. It’s in their nature. It’s one of their personality traits that goes unnoticed very easily by the general public. And it’s one of the most dangerous traits that most people don’t realize is what makes them succumb to the psychopath’s will.

When I appeared in court with Daniel, my daughter accompanied me. I did not know who would accompany Daniel. My daughter, who had been in and out of the Chelsea home, had known Daniel throughout the years that I was with him, and was well qualified to speak to the judge about any concerns that I had should the judge question her as a witness. My daughter also has a degree in criminal psychology. She was my support in the court system and her opinion would have been well-versed.

Daniel brought with him apparently his current girl friend. I can only determine “current girl friend” because of her behavior when she saw me. She fawned over him in the court room, and Daniel kept backing away from her advances. When our names were called, she also followed him to the front tables and stood there. I’m not sure why, but she decided she would be present in front of the judge, although she had no bearing on this case.

My daughter later told me that this woman looked so much like I did, that the resemblance was remarkable. Her height was the same as mine, her coloring, her haircut, her hair color, even her build-she was pretty much identical to me. Other than the way I was dressed for court, my daughter said, this woman could have been me dressed in jeans, boots and a hoodie on a casual day. At the time, all I thought was that he must have the same taste in women. But there was more to her looks than I thought. There apparently was a reason she could have been my twin or my sister. I would find that out later.

The Judge asked me why I wanted a Protection From Abuse. I began to speak, barely beginning with, “Your Honor, I have had three PFA’s in the past against this man. I am now asking you to…” I was interrupted very loudly with “That’s bogus!” by Daniel. I turned to look at him. He began speaking rapidly at the judge. Daniel began telling him that I was a vindictive woman, who was angry with him, because we weren’t together any longer, and that anything that would come out of my mouth would be “bogus”.

I could begin to feel my blood racing. My eyes were opening wider and wider. I was standing no more than two feet away from this man. Now this woman he had brought began to yell at the judge, telling him that yes, indeed, I was a vindictive woman who wanted to make trouble for them. She began pointing fingers at me, and also yelling. My daughter was grasping my elbow, to steady me, and whispering to me to stay calm. The judge is listening to Daniel speak loudly and forcefully, and asking the woman who she is and why is she involved in this matter, then telling her she has no business being involved and to please leave the table area, then he turns back to Daniel and tells him to continue. Leaning on his elbows, quite enraptured with Daniel, the judge listens to him. Quite a commotion he caused, showing the judge how women can be preposterous in a situation. The judge became enamored of Daniel, and literally showed little regard for any females. It was very well organized.

Daniel planned the opening well. He interrupted me one time, caused a scene, had this woman cause a larger scene, which in turn had the judge have her removed from the area. The judge then in turn, returned to Daniel to have him explain himself, thereby excluding me from the original conversation. I’m watching this, as if it’s all in slow motion. I say to the judge, “Excuse me, your Honor, you asked me a question. May I continue?” He tells me only one can talk at a time, and motions to Daniel to resume speaking.

I am now incensed. I’m sure my face reflected this. Daniel goes on to tell the judge that he was sitting peacefully in his living room watching television when the sheriff’s officers knocked on his door. He said he had absolutely no idea what they could want from him when they served the paperwork on him. I could tell you about his string of arrests and court appearances that have continued and still continue to this day as I write this post, but they don’t have any bearing on my business with Daniel.  He conveyed to the judge that he was a parody of a man who was simply living a quiet life that was being vindicated by a woman who could not let go. What he did was reverse the tables for the judge, play him for the fool, and make me appear the despicable person. The Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde personality was coming out. Daniel was attempting to manipulate the court, the judge and the system again.

He then told the judge what I was waiting to hear. “Your Honor, I don’t even know how she knew my address to serve me with these papers. She must have stalked me.” Words that made my head flip back.

Peace.

Sorceress.

All works past, present and future are protected under a CCC. Creative Common License, Kaarie Blake Musings by Kaarie Blake is licensed under a Creative Common Attribution-Noncommercial-Noderivs-3.0-Unported License.

 

Survival Of A Psychopath(With Borderline Tendencies…Attempted Murder By MVA, Butcher Knife…Part 2.)

One cold day in November, a late Saturday evening, he appeared at the bedroom door.  Daniel had formerly been growing his hair longer, past his shoulders. He had now shaven his head, completely clean. He had stripped down to just his jeans, and was in his bare feet. His eyes were as dark as the black of night on a new moon.

He stood in the doorway to the bedroom for a moment, leveled eyes with me as I lie on the bed reading, and I knew. I saw the look in those black eyes, and I knew what was about to happen. I had seen that look before, just a few months earlier.

Daniel lunged at me. He grabbed a pillow, jumped on top of me, and tried to asphyxiate me. With all my might, and whatever my adrenaline would allow me to do, I fought with all my strength. I began kicking and clawing at him. I had clogs on my feet, the type nurses wear and I was using them against him. While he was fighting to get them off of me, I managed to break free from him and off the bed.

My father was a Sheriff’s Officer. From the time I was a small girl, he had always taught me little tricks should someone try to attack me. When I was a young woman, I learned martial arts defense. It was now, these thoughts came back to me. I couldn’t scream,  non-vocal and non-verbal from the accidents.

I managed to fight Daniel off and push him away. As I recount this story I know that adrenaline pumps through a person when fear for your safety is occurring. I started to run as best I could out of the bedroom and down the second-floor hallway. He ran after me and caught up to me. He grabbed me by the neck and began to strangle me.

The hallway wasn’t very long and he had me cornered in the bathroom, the end room facing the front of the home. Three times, he had his fingers and hands around my neck. Three times, I remembered to put my fingers between his. But he did have me down on the floor. This was a fight for my life.

When I managed to get up again, and started to move away from him, he caught me. He threw me against a solid oak door that led to the attic in the home. I hit my head, and started to slide down. I saw stars for the first time in my life. I knew I needed to focus. But here was the key to how I did manage to focus. Daniel spit on me as I slid to the floor.

He spit on me. Where I grew up, spitting on someone is the ultimate insult. For some reason, altho I knew he was trying to kill me, that he spit on me was humiliating and angering me. He then turned and ran down the stairs. I sat there for a moment, and remembered I needed to focus.

I stood up shakily, thought about the phone downstairs, and went quickly down the flight of stairs. As I picked up the phone, I hit 911. Luckily, in this county, 911 patches into the home address from where the call is made on a landline. I managed to mumble that a man is trying to murder me. As soon as I said that, Daniel grabbed me from behind, and dragged me into the kitchen. I held the portable phone but Daniel had no idea that I was holding it.

He had me around the waist, and in his right hand brandished a butcher knife. He held it to my neck and asked me if I wanted it to my neck or to my abdomen. I had brought the phone with me, and placed it down on the table as he was dragging me into the kitchen. I wanted 911 to hear my death recorded. That’s what I thought was going to happen.

There’s more to what happened in my kitchen that late November night as Daniel held me by my waist with his left arm and brandished a butcher knife in his right hand against my neck. I knew I needed to convey to 911 that an emergency was at hand and Daniel was not of sound mind. 911 also needed to know that Daniel had weapons and he had used them in his attacks on me.

My mind was racing and I’m sure this only took seconds but I yelled to Daniel, “Where did you get that butcher knife?” He answered back loudly, still holding me around the waist, with the butcher knife at neck height, “I got this butcher knife to mother-fucking kill you…”. That’s what I had hoped he would answer. I prayed that 911 heard what Daniel was screaming in my ears. All I could think about were my three children and I wanted them to know  that if Daniel murdered me he was the one responsible and how he did it. I needed him to admit his intent for 911 if I was going to die.

I knew if he answered that one comment perhaps I could say one more and distract him. At this point, in this position, a person will say and try anything to save their lives. This is what I said to him. “Who is going to clean my blood from our white kitchen floor? Your Mother?”  From the back of my mind I was able to focus and I used my resources to send the knife flying one way, have his left arm open to release me and have his body semi-slump all at the same time.

I flew around the table, grabbed the phone and headed for the front of the house. The 911 operator was still on the line. He asked me if I was ok. I told them Daniel now was holding a belt and he was attempting to strangle me with it. The operator told me there were five patrol cars out in front of my home, the officers were about to break in and he was letting them know I was at the front door attempting to get out now.

The rest seems surrealistic to me as the front door opened and I seemed to be lifted out and taken to safety by an officer. The lights of the patrol cars were focused on the front of the porch and the house was now brightly lit. Officers were in position with guns ready. Daniel appeared at the door of the home, saw the officers, the cars, the guns pointed, and dropped the belt. He raised his hands up in the air and said, “Arrest me…I’m trying to kill my wife.” He was never married to me. He was delusional in his thought process.

I’m here today. 911 sent officers speeding to my home. They did break in. Daniel,arrested on straight $30,000 bail, did attempt suicide in jail that night. He spent 5 months in jail,  his mother hired an attorney, Daniel was released with this sentence: time spent, an anger management course and 364 days of probation.

The day he was released, when his victim should have been notified ahead of time, the warden called me after Daniel was released, apologizing, saying he come into work and didn’t know Daniel had been released earlier. I found out just as Daniel and his mother were walking up the flight of stairs to my bedroom. Sandra had kept a key to my home.

Life with the psychopath and his mother. The mother that always thought her son was perfect. That her son could do no wrong.  I know she brought him back into my home after his release from prison to torment me. She didn’t want him in her home.  Now, she knew what he was capable of performing.

He never should have been allowed back into my life. Without being able to speak, without being able to verbalize fully my rights should have been guarded more carefully by the law. But as a victim, they weren’t.

Very few were schooled in Daniel’s psychotic behaviours back then. The prison psychiatrist accurately diagnosed him as a psychopath. But Sandra and her son had originally eluded me. They fooled the neighbors. They fooled all those around them. It’s what people with these illnesses do. It was only Sandra Smith’s word against mine. And my word wasn’t there then. It was only hers and his.

And then my own personal prison-time began with Daniel and his mother.

Peace.

Sorceress

All works past, present and future are protected under a CCC. Creative Common License, Kaarie Blake Musings by Kaarie Blake is licensed under a Creative Common Attribution-Noncommercial-Noderivs-3.0-Unported License

 

Survival Of A Psychopath(With Borderline Tendencies…They Kill Your Pets, Don’t They?) Part Two

Post #50 spoke of the beginning of the deaths of my pets. It took me 50 posts to pull my courage and strength together to write this series of “They Kill Your Pets, Don’t They?”. The legacies of Hendrix, Berwyn, Shortcake, Sabbath, the dead kittens, the decapitated tabby, Thor and all the others always stay in the back of my mind. The cruelty of Daniel and his mother is unspeakable. My tears are sometimes uncontrollable. I have been damaged by these people, yes. But I have also been strengthened by their ruthlessness and callousness.

Daniel’s cousin raised Samoyed puppies. Years ago, I had a Sammy that was a teddy bear with my own children. Yehnsei was a great dog with the kids when they were just toddlers. They would use her as a pillow when they would watch Sesame Street. She was such a gentle dog. When his mother told me about his cousin and her dogs and suggested we acquire a puppy from her, I agreed to take a ride down to her farm.

We drove down and took a look at her dogs. She had two available. The one that I chose was about six months old and seemed well-trained. We brought him home, and he behaved well with my other dog, Sabbath. I had told his cousin we had cats also, and she said that wouldn’t be a problem. Her dogs had been adjusted to cats, also. The new dog seemed to be happy when we brought him in, and he played happily with the cats in our household, also.

I was in another room when I heard a cat screeching. I ran into the second bedroom and found the new Samoyed cornering Shortcake, one of my cats. I thought this would be typical, a new dog discovering a new cat type of thing. Problem was, it seemed he had injured my cat and I had to rush my cat to my veterinarian.

My vet took my cat immediately, x-rayed him, administered tests, etc., and pronounced him ok. He said Shortcake had been through an upset, would need to be watched overnight, could come home but would be fine. I was nervous and upset now about this dog and wanted to return him, but my main concern was about my cat.

I stayed up all night nursing my cat. He seemed to be fatigued, more frightened than anything and I stayed next to him. At about 6 a.m., I decided to take a shower. Shortcake was now sleeping peacefully and doing better, so I felt I could leave him for a few minutes while I refreshed myself. I regret that decision to this day.

After my shower, I opened the bathroom door to find Daniel standing directly outside of the bathroom door. Standing within inches of the door, waiting for me to open it. Quizzically I looked at him, asking what’s wrong. He blurted out, “Shortcakes dead!” Not again, my whole demeanor just slumped. I ran to my bedroom, pushing him aside. There was my Shortcake, lying in his bed, dead. Another dead animal in my home. I had left my cat alone with this man, never thinking, never realizing that he would kill my pet behind my back. Never did I think these thoughts. Never. But it happened. And I’m sorry that I left my animal behind while I took my shower. I never knew that I was leaving my pet in the hands of a murderer. That thought haunts me and brings haunted tears over and over again. The pain that I feel never seems to lessen itself.

Again, a tearful burial was done in the backyard. Tearful on my part, and false tears on Daniel’s part. I don’t know what went through his mind. I don’t even want to imagine. I won’t give credence to any thought that might have gone through his sick, twisted mind. All I know is that my cat was resting finally, I had gone to take a shower, and he used that opportunity to kill yet another of my pets.

Daniel then called his mother, Sandra to tell her the news. Sandra raced to our home. I’m not sure exactly what Daniel told her on the phone, because she was under the impression that the dog had killed my cat. I tried to explain to her that my vet had told me Shortcake was ok, and wasn’t hurt, that he shouldn’t have died. But Daniel gave her the impression that this dog had done enough damage to the cat that something else had gone terribly wrong and  instead, the cat did die.

Sandra then packed the dog in her van and drove him back to the cousin’s farm. She returned the dog, calling it a “killer”. Little did she know it was her son that was the real killer of the animal that had died. Somehow Daniel had convinced her that the dog was responsible. He had used the opportunity at hand to kill. He had psychopathic urges, saw an opportunity to use them and did. I look at all of this now, and writing about it makes me want to hug my animals and protect them with all my might.

Did I realize Daniel had killed Shortcake? Did I see it in his eyes when I opened the bathroom door? I saw some type of gleam there, yes. I mistook the black gleam in his eyes not for the despair of the death of my cat, but it was really for the excitement and the thrill it must have given him to take the last breaths from my cat.

Daniel was out of breath as he told me Shortcake was dead. His eyes were startling black. He was shaking. He was excited. He was moving back and forth uncontrollably. At the time, I interpreted these signs differently.

How do I know these things now? I can’t forget that look on his face then. I’ve seen blackness where his iris is supposed be. I won’t forget the cajoling way he used on the camcorder calling to my cat that he decapitated. His agitated affectness when Berwyn “died”. I’ve heard his low chuckle when he’s either done something or thought something that is morally or socially unacceptable.  I’ve lived with a diagnosed psychopath. I’ve seen their mannerisms. My bones have been chilled by their ways. Now I know.

The American Psychiatric Association‘s Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders incorporated various concepts of psychopathy/sociopathy/antisocial personality in early versions but, starting with the DSM-III in 1980, used instead the term Antisocial Personality Disorder and focused on earlier behavior instead of using personality judgements. The World Health Organization‘s ICD incorporates a similar diagnosis of Dissocial Personality Disorder. Both the DSM and the ICD state that psychopathy (or sociopathy) are synonyms of their diagnosis. For more information please go here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Antisocial_personality_disorder.

Education about Antisocial personality disorder helps to understand the complexities involved in their personal judgements as described in my posts about Daniel. I am not making excuses for him. I never will. I’ve said before he is a sick man with a twisted mind that has slipped through the cracks of our judicial systems. I don’t believe he can be rehabilitated. I don’t believe that electro-convulsive therapy worked for him. Nor do I believe that medication helped him, other than putting him in a dream-like state where he was asleep 18 hours of the day.

Peace.

Sorceress.

All works past, present and future are protected under a CCC. Creative Common License, Kaarie Blake Musings by Kaarie Blake is licensed under a Creative Common Attribution-Noncommercial-Noderivs-3.0-Unported License

 

Survival Of A Psychopath(With Borderline Tendencies…Red Flags#6…Not Me, I Wouldn’t Fall For Those Lies.)

Those lies. Those words. Those sweet words that he tells you. Those endearing, sweet nothings he whispers  that warm your heart and body. The beautiful language of the psychopath.

You tell yourself, “I wouldn’t fall for those lies. I’m too savvy. I’m too smart. I’m on to player types.” Sure you are. Most women know about players. We sit around and laugh and giggle about those type of guys. So what’s the real difference? Why is it so important to know the difference between a psychopath and a player? More importantly, do you understand that there are differences between the psychopath and the player?

To actually define what a player is, the term is a description of societal behavior. Other similar descriptive words that women might use could be womanizer, hustler or cheater. Looking at the description in UrbanDictionary.com, it lists “player” as:

1.

player 3199 up290 down
A male who is skilled at manipulating (“playing”) others, and especially at seducing women by pretending to care about them, when in reality they are only interested in sex. Possibly derived from the phrases “play him for a fool”, or “play him like a violin”. The term was popularized by hip-hop culture, but was commonly recognized among urban American blacks by the 1970s.

2.

1586 up388 down
a guy who:
(1) doesn’t understand the meaning of relationship
(2) is in full reproductive mode
(3) is very good at making girls think he is into them (also very proficient at breaking said girls hearts)
(4) often “dates” several girls at several schools (girls are often unaware of each other)

3.

613 up197 down
A man who seduces woman to make them think that they are the love of their life. Once the woman falls for the man, he casually asks her out on a date. When descirbing the date to her he will make it sound very romantic. ex. picnic on a beach, dinner and a movie, etc. The woman will meet the man and soon find out plans have changed. For some reason the man wants to stay at home. Since the woman likes the man so much she will not think twice about it. She will soon find out that the man only wants to be sexually with her and couldn’t give a damn about her, her life, or her personality. But the woman will give into the man, feeling that being physical will make their relationship stronger. When, in reality, the man has no intention of even talking to the woman after that night! The sad thing is that women who gets played usually goes back to the man, thinking, hoping, that there will be a relationship soon to come. But players are just comlete assholes. They’re manipulating and the only “feelings” they have are in the pants. AVOID THEM AT ALL COSTS!!

See http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=player .

Granted, what is in the urban dictionary is written by the public. It’s written by society. It’s people’s emotions and feelings. It’s opinions. It’s crass at times. But so are players. So that’s why I chose that particular reference for the word player. I needed the definition of what most people think a player is, does and how one behaves.

So how do you see the real difference between a frivolous player and a true psychopath? They’re both losers. They’re both not worth your time. They’re both sporting huge red flags. But a psychopath will demonstrate the following behaviors:  be impulsive in their actions, superficial charming behavior towards you, manipulative, have a lack of remorse or guilt, have a history of juvenile delinquency, cannot control their behaviors, constant lying, uneven emotions, adapt his behavior to match yours, fail to take responsibility for his own actions, lead a worthless lifestyle (some), promiscuous with a variety of sexual partners and the list goes on. I’ve talked about a psychopath’s behavior in former posts, please see links below.

So you think you won’t ever fall for a psychopath? Ever fall for any of these red flag lies? Here are some more in my continuing list.

1. I would or I could never lie to you.

2. If you play your cards right, I can get you a job in your field. or

3. You know, I know the right people to set you up in a good job for you.

4. I tested HIV negative.

5. It’s you and me babe-we’ll make love in every place you can imagine!

6. When I tell you my wife and I lead separate lives, we do. Very separate lives. She even has her own bedroom.

7. I’m going to leave my wife.

8. I don’t love my wife. I don’t think I ever did.

9. Love my wife? She doesn’t  know the meaning of the word love. You know the meaning of the word love. 

10. It’s because of you that I understand what this thing called love is all about.

11. What attracts me to you is your mind. We can control the world.

12. We can be a power couple.

13. Imagine the power we hold together?

14. Do you see how people look at us?

15. I want your opinion, it’s important to me.

16. I beginning to think I really can’t live without you.

17. I promise you that I’ll change.

18. My wife and I have an understanding.

19. I agree, let’s be friends first.

20. Looks aren’t everything.

21. Your money is your money, I have no need for it.

22. What? I never said that. You are confused.

23. You make me feel like I’m in HS again…like a kid.

24. That’s not a tan line from a wedding ring. It was my grandfather’s ring.

25. I’ve never hit, nor will I ever hit a woman.

As I’ve said before, and I will repeat, these words spew forth from the mouth of the habitual liar easily. They form on the lips of the psychopath because he wants you to believe in him. The ideas forming in the mind of the psychopath’s mind are all about you. So whatever he talks about, must conform to your standards. Why? He must make you think that he is acceptable to your standards. How will he do this? He will study you, scrutinize you, learn all about you. He will take this information, wrap it into a neat little package in his brain. He will compartmentalized this information for safekeeping so that he can use it every chance he gets to make you believe he is the perfect man for you. He will twist your words, confuse you, frustrate you. He will do these things in a very short matter of time. And you are hooked. Unbelievably hooked.

Peace.

Sorceress

All works past, present and future are protected under a CCC. Creative Common License, Kaarie Blake Musings by Kaarie Blake is licensed under a Creative Common Attribution-Noncommercial-Noderivs-3.0-Unported License

 

Survival Of A Psychopath(With Borderline Tendencies…Red Flags #5-Oh Those Lies He Tells Me)

Red Flags Of The Psychopath

Red Flags Of The Psychopath

As promised, the next set of 25 best lies he will tell you to make your heart tremble. The lies that make you speechless. The words designed to wrap around your heart and mind to sweep you off your feet and run to him with arms wide open because… because…well, you just know, you feel he needs only you.

After all, he’s told you this over and over. How much he needs you. How much he runs to you. How much you’ve got him. Or how much he’s got you. You are at a loss for words. But you know he’s got you. With his beck and call, you’ll run. Drop whatever you’re doing and go to him. His plan is working.

You’re not exactly sure why it’s working so fast, so quickly, so rapidly. You have no idea why this man has you wrapped around his little finger the way he does, but he did it. And he did it in a matter of days, or hours, even.

His audience,you,  enraptured with the thought of sweet promises. You’ve given him the key. You wait up for him. After hours, wait up for him. His car is parked outside between 1 a.m. and 5 a.m.  Or  between 5 a.m. and 7 a.m.   Or between noon and 1:30. How about from 5 to 7:30 p.m.? Getting the idea here? Restricted hours?

But the words he tells you make it ok. It feels so good to you and him. His words make everything sound so right. Of course they do.He’s watched you, read you, listened to you  and is now playing back a newer version of you. The psychopath’s version. What a guy. All in a matter of weeks he was able to choose you, figure out your idiosyncrasies, and spit them back out at you to make you believe that he is so much like you. What a match for you. How long have you known him now? Ten days? He’s a quick one to make you feel like this, that psychopath.

Red Flags #4, as promised, the lies, the words designed to make you feel special or wanted or you just might be the one in his life to turn it around and be his one and only. Remember, these are words many people say to each other. These words are said out of context after only a few days. That isn’t normal behavior. Or is it?

1. I don’t sleep around, that’s not my style.

2. I’ve only slept with…let’s see…probably 6 or 7 women in my life.

3. I don’t really drink, maybe I’ll have a beer when I’m out with a friend, but that’s really a rare time.

4. Drugs? Nope.

5. My wife and I don’t have sex anymore. Haven’t in years. It’s a sad situation. That’s what makes me so happy I finally found a woman like you.

6. Interested in other women? Why would you say that? You’re the only one for me.

7. I’ve never been experimental in sex, never had the opportunity. Wish I could have. Thought I was freak to think I wanted to.

8. When I’m with a woman in a relationship, I’m with her only.

9. Who? No, I don’t know that woman you just mentioned. (yet you have proof.)

10. I always use a condom.

11. I could never lie to you, you’re too important to me, don’t you see that?

12. My only sexual fantasies are about you, is that ok with you? I hope you don’t mind….

13. Believe me, if we have sex, it won’t change the way I feel about you.

14. Of course I don’t want you for sex only.

15. No, I’ve never had rough sex, or alternative sex, or BDSM. That’s not what I’m into.

16. I’d never do anything to hurt you.

17. It’s you and me babe, I want to grow old with you, forever.

18. I’ll always take care of you, aren’t you my responsibility?

19.  I’ve never done this before…you know, had an affair.

20. I’ve never been in therapy, ever.

21. I’d like you even if you were a man.

22. Don’t worry, I’ll stand behind you if you get pregnant, after all, I want you to have my child.

23. My wife/gf was a whore/whored around, I can see you’re not like that.

24. Women should be put on pedestals, like you.

25. I adore you.

Do any of these sound confusing to you? Especially when said to you right at the outset of meeting a new man? Some of these comments wouldn’t be shared with someone you’ve just met. Some of them are personal. Some of them designed to confuse you, some to frustrate you. Most of them, a lot of them, all of them? Are lies when spewed from the mouth of the true psychopath.

When the pathological liar, when a psychopath begin to asses his victim, he must move quickly. He assesses, he learns everything he can, then he moves in for the kill. I don’t use that word lightly. Some psychopaths do murder. Some psychopaths are quite violent. At some point in the relationship, there will be a down turn, and he will lose interest in you. The honeymoon phase will end, he will begin to look elsewhere, and the berating will begin. He may hold on to you for his own personal reasons, he may not. Regardless, your so-called belief as an object of affection with a soul mate that you couldn’t believe was possible has now ended. He has now finished playing with his toy.

Peace.

Sorceress

All works past, present and future are protected under a CCC. Creative Common License, Kaarie Blake Musings by Kaarie Blake is licensed under a Creative Common Attribution-Noncommercial-Noderivs-3.0-Unported License

 

Survival Of A Psychopath(With Borderline Tendencies…Red Flags #4…Why Does He Lie?)

Pathological lying is a disorder. A psychopath suffers from pathological lying. What exactly is pathological lying vs. white lies vs. lying in general?

Pathological lying redirects in wikipedia to: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pseudologia_fantastica .

Understand this is a completely different ballgame. Pathological lying can cover a myriad of dysfunctional disorders, including but not limited to :

What I am referring to specifically is the psychopath that lies. Why he lies, when he began lying and why he continues to lie. A neat little package with a lot of red flags that point to the person he is, including all of his lies.
I’ll name a few types of lies to help you understand what I’m referring to. Remember, these are his lines at the beginning of the relationship to reel you in and catch you before you have a chance to spit that hook out of your mouth. Within days of meeting him, you’ll hear these words spill from his lips, romancing you, caressing your mind.
1. I’ve never met a woman like you and never thought I ever would.
2. I’m leaving my wife, it was over anyway.
3. Now I believe in soul mates.
4. I want you to have my children.
5. We’ll never have to worry about money.
6. It was always her, she was the trouble in the relationship…I don’t know why I put up with her…guess I was the good guy.
7. I want children (I don’t want children) depending on your wants.
8. She hated sex,  she made me go to prostitutes, I feel so  dirty because of her.
9. I used to hate getting up in the morning, now I have you to look forward to every time I wake up.
10. I was the red-headed step-child in the house (or the abused child, or the hated son, or the disliked child, etc.)
11.You’re the the only one.
12. I want to make a commitment with you-now.
13. You are so wonderful…I don’t deserve you or you deserve someone better than me.
14.No one’s ever turned me on like you do!
15. My wife is dying and I cannot divorce her.
16. I love you.
17. I’ll call/text you.
18. Only you make me feel these tingles.
19. I swear I’ve never felt this way about anyone else.
20. That’s the best sex I’ve ever had.
21. Yes, I’m looking for a relationship.
22. No, I’m not into FWB’s. (FriendsWithBenefits)
23. I get tested monthly.
24. I’m not into random sex.
25. I’m not married.
Yes, some of these lines are perfectly reasonable when said in the context of a relationship that has been sustained over  time. A period of time that consists of months. A time when a couple has had time to explore one another, learn about each other and has divulged personal information to each other. When a couple has learned to trust each other.
Trust is an important factor in divulging personal information, confidential information and believable romantic promises. 
Many of these lines are designed to frustrate and confuse you. Remember you are his target. This is his scenerio and the psychopath is playing you. This is his game.
In the series Red Flags #4, the next 25 best lies you could hear.
Peace.
Sorceress.

All works past, present and future are protected under a CCC. Creative Common License, Kaarie Blake Musings by Kaarie Blake is licensed under a Creative Common Attribution-Noncommercial-Noderivs-3.0-Unported License