If You Give A Sociopath A Cookie...

He’s probably going to want to fuck up your whole life.

This is a story of a whirlwind romance between a boy and a girl who met, fell in love, and crashed and burned in the most phenomenally dysfunctional way possible.  All in the span of 34 days.

If you give a sociopath a cookie,

He’s probably going to make you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.  Well, at first, anyway.

He was perfect.  I’m not even exaggerating; this man was my dream come true.  Charming, devilishly handsome, spontaneous, outgoing, funny, intelligent, fun-loving and carefree.  It was obvious from the start that he was broken, but I was willing to work with that, because I saw so much potential.  We both fell hard and fast.  I suppose I should have known better, but I was just so enamored with this man, I couldn’t help myself!  All reason and common sense flew out the window on the first night I met him.  Despite the warnings from a mutual friend; despite the warnings from a “friend” I hardly knew, but who knew him well; despite his shady past and tendency to refer to women in his life as “sociopaths.”  (That’s what sociopaths do, you know; claim that everyone else has a problem, not him.)

Oh boy, I was head over fucking heels for this guy!  I was willing to look past the negative and focus on the positive, because, ohmygod, he may be THE ONE.

And if he makes you feel like the luckiest girl in the world,

You’re going to remain in blissful ignorance for about 10 days.

Every day was exciting.  The sex was amazing!!!  Best I’ve ever had, hands down.  The chemistry between us was explosive.  He worshipped me and I adored him.  Some of my favorite days I’ve ever had in my life were spent with him.  We danced and we talked and we laughed and we made love.  

 But then… his insecurity reared its ugly head.  I had spent an evening with my sister and didn’t call him to say goodnight like he asked me to.  He was all suspicious why I wouldn’t call when I said I would, and why I didn’t answer any of his calls (because I had gotten drunk with my sister and passed out on the couch, that’s why).  He pointed out that I always have my phone with me, I must have chosen to ignore him on purpose.  Irritating, but I apologized for breaking a promise, and we were able to work through the issue.  But two days later…

When the blissful ignorance ends,

He’s going to start accusing you of lying.

This is the part where I should have started to hear the warning bells going off.  But I was so captivated by him, I refused to believe that he was an insecure, jealous psychopath.  However, when he called me a liar, I took offense and threatened to cut things off (I don't care how sexy you are, you don't just get to call me a liar).  He accused me of not paying attention to him, of not wanting to communicate with him, of not taking him seriously.  All because, according to him, I took too long to respond to his messages.  Seriously.  The accusations were unjustified, and I felt that it was disrespectful to me.  I tried to talk to him reasonably, but he started saying hurtful things and attacking my character, saying that I was selfish and stubborn and had obviously lied about my feelings for him.  I blocked his number and stopped talking to him for a couple of days.   

But when I finally agreed to let him come over to talk things out, I was once again blinded by my infatuation with him.  And so we went on for a few more days, madly in love and barely leaving the bedroom.  Every minute with him was exciting and stimulating and like nothing I had ever experienced before.  However, this period of bliss would be short-lived, because…

After he accuses you of lying,

His crazy will manifest itself even crazier than you could have ever imagined.

Sixteen days after we first met, shit hit the motherfucking fan.  I drove to Muskegon for my youngest nephew’s birthday party, and for a customer appreciation party at my bar there (two separate parties, I promise).  He had been texting me throughout the day, how much he loved me and missed me and wanted to see me.  Little did I know, he had schemed up a plan to actually come to the bar I was at to “surprise” me.  While there, he managed to make a disaster of everything.  [I’m not going into detail about what exactly went down, because there’s just so much to cover.  Maybe this incident will get its own blog post in the future.]  We got into a huge drunken fight which led me to make some really poor life choices, not the least of which was to drive 40 minutes to his house (because he had stormed off, angry, and said that if I really wanted to be with him, I would drive to his house to talk) and then, after not being able to remember where he lived (thanks to my drunken state), continue to drive 30 minutes back to MY house on the verge of black-out drunk.

The following morning, he couldn’t understand why I was so upset.  He felt that it was HE who had been wronged by my actions the night before, therefore I should apologize to him.   So I stopped talking to him for a week.  In between all of this, he said some pretty hurtful, spiteful, cruel things.  He called me a whore and a bitch, told me to fuck myself, and again accused me of being a liar.  In between all of the hate he spewed, he would tell me how much he loved me and could give me the world if I would just talk to him.  But then he reverted back to talking shit.  He would Jekyll and Hyde so fast it damn near gave me whiplash. 

Despite all of that bullshit, by the end of the week, I was dying to talk to him, to see him, to touch him...  So, I attempted to patch things up.  Again.

After his crazy manifests itself,

It will calm down just enough for you to fall madly back in love.

I apologized.  I promised him everything- the world, my loyalty, my love.  Despite the better judgment of literally everyone who knew us, I decided that I would be happier with him than without him.  And I was… for about a week.  Those days were pure magic.  We talked about moving in together.  We loved each other more voraciously than ever.  I didn’t want to spend a single day without him by my side.  The chemistry, the romance, the passion, they were all consuming!  To date, one of the best days of my life happened during this period.  We spent the day, enjoying each other, learning more about one another, exploring the city and each another.     

BUT, jealousy and insecurity, once again, destroyed our magic.

As soon as you fall back in love with him,

He will accuse you of lying, cheating, being an alcoholic (that may not be so far from the truth…), and fucking your roommate.

Yeah, that happened.   We were good for like two days, but then everything just felt off.  He was distant, made excuses why he couldn’t stay over.  He was working a lot (was he really working??).  Finally, he started accusing me of being an alcoholic and “choosing” alcohol over him.  He brought up one night when I decided to drink at home (to excess, I admit, but had owned up to that from the start), and asserted that I would rather get drunk than spend time with him.  And then, he accused me of fucking my roommate.  NOT Scott (the ex-boyfriend-turned-best-friend) but the other one.  Which is gross on so many levels.  And fucking offensive.  When I called him out on that, he began to say the most hurtful, cruel things, about how I’m a whore with no self-worth, that I don’t know how to manage my own life, that I’m basically untrustworthy and unworthy of love.   

For a while now, he had been “checking up” on me via facebook messenger, keeping track of when and how often I was active on there.  He had, multiple times during our month together, gotten into my phone to read my texts and messages, and check my call history.  I had nothing to hide, so I wasn’t worried about anything he had read, but I still felt violated.  He was trying to catch me in a lie, and when he couldn’t, he just made something up.  It was maddening because the lack of trust was unwarranted.  As was the accusation that I was actively looking for other partners, that I was not to be trusted alone, and that I would sleep with my fucking roommate!!!  That was the last straw.  He continued to berate me, degrade me, and generally disrespect me.  So I finally cut things off, for the last time. He told me he was done.  Fine, me too.  It’s been a week, and I haven’t heard from him.  And that’s that.

Even after he accuses you of lying and cheating…

You will be devastatingly heartbroken at the loss of the relationship and miss the shit out of him every day.

I know it’s stupid, but I miss him.  I miss the magic.  I miss the companionship.  I miss the passion.  I cry because I miss the good things, our highs were so euphorically high!  I weep knowing that I will never again meet anyone quite like him.  I grieve because I finally felt like someone loved me for the person I think I am, the person I want to be, the person I wish other people would see in me, and all of that’s gone.  Perhaps the worst of it all is that I feel lonelier now than I ever did before I met him. 

But I just cannot tolerate the disrespect or the emotional abuse.  I don’t know how or why I put up with it for as long as I did.  I allowed his words to poison me and it seriously affected my self-worth.  So along with the grieving process, I’m going through a healing process, to focus on loving myself and appreciating who I am and where I’m at in life.  It’s a tricky situation to maneuver, and I’m afraid I can’t do it on my own, so I am seeking professional help.  No shame.   

 
So, that’s it.  That’s what I’ve been up to for the past month and a half.  Conducting my own fucked up experiment of what it’s like to date a sociopath.  I wouldn’t recommend it.  It only ends in heartbreak and counseling fees.

And once you realize that the sociopath has fucked up your life,
You understand that there is a good chance he'll come running back to ask for a cookie.  And if he does that, you just tell him to go fuck himself.