Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

It all comes down an abrupt end, something I did not expect. For years I was compared to the likes of a sociopath. Constantly. A for a while it got to me - I believed to be this monstrous person that could harm people left and right with little to no remorse. Then I spoke my feelings and finally broke off the emotional abyss that was draining my life.

No, I don't blame the person. I can't. It takes two to tango, and none was better than the other. But there was a semblance of truth in those words spoken to me once.

Narcissist. Sociopath. Monster.

I currently have a lot of flexibility where I work, so I get to listen to a lot of documentaries. Time ago I started with "creepy pastas" and other horror stories, but it eventually snowballed into murderers and, yes, serial killers. I got fascinated by the traits and profiles they all shared. It was riveting to listen to detectives and policemen discuss how they caught the offenders, but a lot more intriguing to hear the development and the common things the majority of them had.

And then it hit me - the profile. I was like that at some point. A compulsive liar willing to do whatever it took to get what I wanted. Charming, smooth talker, a sweet guy, highly intelligent, articulate, but also harsh, relentless, brutal, abusive, no empathy, anti-social, a control freak, and would rely a lot on intimidation. People were objects and I would discard them as soon as I had no use for them. There were plenty of traits that could compare to the likes of Bundy, Gacy, or Cottingham.

But, would murder be on my list? Was I actually capable of taking someone's life and feel no remorse?