Psychotic boyfriend signs
10 Signs You're Dating A Psychopath & What To Expect
1. They reel you in with idealization, love-bombing, and flattery.
One way to know if your partner is a psychopath is how the relationship starts. When you first meet a psychopath, things move extremely fast. They tell you how much they have in common with you—how perfect you are for them. Like a chameleon, they mirror your hopes, dreams, and insecurities to form an immediate bond of trust and excitement. They constantly initiate communication and seem to be fascinated with you on every level. If you have a Facebook page, they might plaster it with songs, compliments, poems, and inside jokes.
2. They prey on your emotions with pity plays and sympathy stories.
An abundance of sob stories can sometimes be a sign you're dating a psychopath. The thing is, you'll quickly find a soft spot in your heart for them. They often seem cute and innocent at first (forget your television idea of the arrogant narcissist with a flashy car).
They'll probably mention their abusive ex who's still in love with them. They say that all they've ever wanted is some peace and quiet. They hate drama—and yet, you'll soon come to notice there's more drama surrounding them than anyone you've ever known.
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3. They involve you in their own versions of "love triangles."
Once you're hooked, the triangulation sets in. They surround themselves with former lovers, potential mates, and anyone else who provides them with added attention. This includes people that the psychopath may have previously denounced and declared you superior to. This makes you feel confused and creates the perception that the psychopath is in high demand at all times. When you're dating a psychopath, confusion and power games are the norm.
4. They constantly rewrite reality.
Dating a psychopath often involves being subjected to a lot of manipulation.
They blatantly deny their own manipulative behavior and ignore evidence when confronted with it. They become dismissive and critical if you attempt to disprove their fabrications with facts. Instead of them actually addressing their inappropriate behavior, somehow it always becomes your fault for being "sensitive" and "crazy." Toxic people condition you to believe that the problem isn't the abuse itself, but instead your reactions to their abuse. (For more on this, here are a few things psychopaths say that will distort your perception of reality.)
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5. They accuse you of feeling emotions that they are intentionally provoking.
They call you jealous after blatantly flirting with an ex—often done over social networking for the entire world to see. They call you needy after intentionally ignoring you for days on end. They use your manufactured reactions to garner sympathy from other targets, trying to prove how "hysterical" you've become.
You probably once considered yourself to be an exceptionally easygoing person, but dating a psychopath will (temporarily) turn that notion upside down.
6. You've noticed them pathologically lying and making excuses.
Another clear clue that your partner might be a psychopath is constant lying. There is always an excuse for everything, even things that don't require excusing. They make up lies faster than you can question them. They constantly blame others—it is never their fault. They spend more time rationalizing their behavior than improving it. Even when caught in a lie, they express no remorse or embarrassment. Oftentimes, it almost seems as if they wanted you to catch them.
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7. They provoke jealousy and rivalries while maintaining their cover of innocence.
Your psychopath partner once directed all of their attention to you, which makes it especially confusing when they begin to withdraw and focus on other people.
They do things that constantly make you doubt your place in their heart. If they're active on social media, they'll bait previously denounced exes with old songs, photos, and inside jokes. They attend to the "competition's" activity and ignore yours.
8. They withhold attention and undermine your self-esteem.
After once showering you with nonstop attention and admiration, psychopathic partners suddenly seem completely bored by you. They treat you with silence and become very annoyed that you're interested in continuing the passionate relationship that they created. You begin to feel like a chore to them.
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9. They exhibit selfishness and a crippling thirst for attention.
When you're in a relationship with a psychopath, they drain the energy from you and consume your entire life. Their demand for adoration is insatiable. You thought you were the only one who could make them happy, but now you feel that anyone with a beating pulse could fit the role.
However, the truth is, no one can fill the void of a psychopath's soul.
10. You don't recognize your own feelings.
You know you're dating a psychopath when your natural love and compassion have transformed into overwhelming panic and anxiety. You apologize and cry more than you ever have in your life. You barely sleep, and you wake up every morning feeling anxious and unhinged. You have no idea what happened to your old relaxed, fun, easygoing self. After dating a psychopath or even just a brief romantic encounter with one, you will feel insane, exhausted, drained, shocked, and empty. You tear apart your entire life—spending money, ending friendships, and searching for some sort of reason behind it all.
What to do if you realize you're dating a psychopath.
These relationships leave long-lasting damage, with feelings and doubts that you'll never be good enough. Relationships with psychopaths are like drowning in a black hole because no matter how much they hurt you, it'll still be your fault.
They ignore your best qualities and provoke your insecurities until your entire personality becomes unrecognizable.
Fortunately, there is always hope for healing. After you leave your abusive relationship, the first step is to employ the no-contact rule, which means absolutely no texts, emails, or social media contact with your psychopath ex. It'll feel impossible at first but easier with time. You'll slowly find your sanity returns, and the chaos dissipates. Eventually this experience will become an incredible opportunity to discover self-respect and make healthy boundaries that will serve you for the rest of your life.
9 signs you are dating a psychopath
This article was updated on July 29, 2021.
A somewhat common response, when asked why you broke up with someone, is to say your ex is a psychopath (or maybe that’s just me?)
Of course psychopaths do only makeup 1% of the population but they tend to favor certain states over others (watch out if you live in Connecticut, California and New Jersey.
) So there is always a chance you may run into one or even find yourself in a relationship with one of them. Here are the signs to look for.
1. They are very charismatic
Do you know those people who just draw you in? Well, that could be a psychopath. “The most exciting thing for me was being able to sort of lend that Ted Bundy charisma to the part,” Zac Efron told E! News when he played the famous psychopath in the 2019 Netflix film “Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile.” “I hope that’s what comes across the most … The most interesting and exciting thing for me to contribute to the movie was Ted had this thing about him, this facade, his charm, and the way that he worked with people. But all through the charm is manipulation. Ce Anderson, therapist and author of Love TAPS, says, “I cannot stress enough how strategic and manipulative and charismatic these individuals are, all the while weaving an intricate trap,”
2.
They are pathological liarsWe’re not talking the occassional white lie. We mean constant lying. They have to be lying all the time in order to hide their behaviors. This is one of the defining characteristics of a psychopath.
3. The relationship moves very fast
Yes, it is normal, especially for older people, to have their relationships move at an accelerated speed but with psychopaths, that isn’t a good thing because it is about control and invasion. There is an agenda behind it. David Gillespie, author of Taming Toxic People: The Science of Identifying and Dealing With Psychopaths At Work and At Home said, “They will seem absolutely perfect. Upfront, they will tell you exactly what you want to hear and they will be exactly what you want to be. They will be the best lover you’ve ever had, the most sharing person.”
4. They bring in a third party (triangulation)
After they make you feel like you are the only person in the world they bring someone else in to complicate things and make you not feel like that anymore.
Usually it is an ex of some kind to reinforce that other people want them and you should be so grateful to have them.
5. They expect the best
Well after all the abuse you just heard about this one may make you feel good (except for the fact that you are dating a psychopath) but psychopaths believe they deserve the best. They want the best looking person in the room, the most desirable and they believe that is you. They are arrogant to an extreme and think they deserve extreme success.
6. They gaslight you
If you started this relationship feeling confident and now feel completely worthless there is a strong chance this person had a lot to do with it. Gaslighting means they are little by little diminishing your confidence. It can be very subtle. They know how to find your vulnerable areas and pray upon them.
7. There is no real emotional attachment
Psychologist John M.
Grohol, founder of Psych Central writes, “They form artificial, shallow relationships designed to be manipulated in a way that most benefits the psychopath. People are seen as pawns to be used to forward the psychopath’s goals. Psychopaths rarely feel guilt regarding any of their behaviors, no matter how much they hurt others.”
8. They trap you
As part of that accelerated relationship, they will make sure you are controlled so it would be very difficult for you to escape whether this be through joint bank accounts or moving in with you immediately.
9. They make you feel grateful for them
Throughout the relationship, they have mostly isolated you from your social circle and friends. This makes you more focused on them and also you start to see them as the only thing you can rely on. Dr. Perpetua Neo wrote for Mind, Body, Green, “This loving creature is the last person you’d expect to hurt you.
Unfortunately, they’re a master of manipulation, having spent their entire life perfecting the art of playing people like puppets. The transgressions grow bigger; their refrain that you’re crazy and ungrateful becomes stronger. A lie, repeated often enough, feels like the truth. As you feel more disconnected from others, they tell you you should be grateful they’re still there in your life.”
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"In moments of pain and suffering, I will never turn to my mother for comfort"
It is no secret that the relationship of a child with his mother leaves a serious imprint on his future life.
In the new collection “What are we silent with my mother”, published by the MIF publishing house, 16 characters tell personal stories and try to comprehend their childhood memories and understand what kind of person their mother was and why she behaved that way .
Mom always considered herself a queen, and we were all her loyal subjects. Any claim to our own individuality was seen as a disobedience to authority, as a sign that we do not love it. And when mom thought that we didn’t love her, then the merciful queen disappeared and an evil witch appeared in her place. nine0003
“The clouds are gathering,” we warned each other in a whisper, feeling how the mood of the mother was beginning to shift to a gloomy side.
This is how briefly we can describe what had no name and ominously sneaked up on us. Mom yelled at us, broke dishes until there was not a single whole plate left in the house, told us terrible things that all settled in my brain, and then it took decades to forget them.
She broke the front wedding photos so many times that we stopped putting them in a frame. Then she locked herself in the bathroom and sobbed for a long time, unable to stop. nine0003
She used to be silent for several days. In one minute, she could switch from crying to uncontrollable laughter. When we were still in full swing after the hurricane she had arranged, she could suddenly ask: “What happened?” And if our faces did not reflect jubilation in response, then the storm could resume. So, little by little, we learned to ignore our own feelings and emotions until we finally stopped having them.
** *
I am fourteen, and my mother has been raging for hours, throwing thunder and lightning. My father and sister and I settle down to watch TV: either Gilligan's Island or The Goon Show, our favorite TV shows at the time and the easiest way for us to relieve stress. Meanwhile, the house becomes suspiciously quiet, and I go to check what and how. Mom is in the bathroom, with a long deep cut across her wrist.
There is blood on the wall, on the sink. nine0003
The mother looks confused, muttering something incoherently. I wash the blood off her hands and tightly bandage the wound with bandages that we keep in our locker. I ask why she did it, but she does not answer. I put her to bed. I don’t tell either my father or my sister about what happened, who is only eight years old, and she has already seen a lot of things in her life that she shouldn’t have seen.
A year or so later, the mother is raging in the kitchen. She just found out that her father again secretly sent money to his sister and mother in Sri Lanka. She has been yelling at him for more than one hour, and my sister and I are sitting in our rooms, pretending that nothing is happening. Suddenly, her sharp scream is heard - we run into the kitchen and see scarlet streaks all over the floor. nine0003
It turns out that the father grabbed a rusty tin of sugar and, with all his strength, hit the mother on the head. The skin is cut, with might and main gushing blood.
Together they go to the hospital, where they will explain that she hit her head hard on the locker. I send the crying sister back to the room. I clean the blood off the floor, the glittering sugar crystals, the crimson clumps where they've mixed together. I remember that this is my mother's blood, and this thought starts to swim before my eyes. But still, by the time the parents return home, cleanliness and order reign in the kitchen. nine0003
When it got especially unbearable, I took my sister and we left the house somewhere
No matter how late the hour was, we went with her to wander through the empty suburban streets. Often we left the house so quickly that we were left barefoot, and the concrete of the road was cold to our feet. In the park, we were swinging, soaring towards the moon, reveling in the feeling of freedom from being able to walk while other children were already in bed for a long time.
We made our way into other people's gardens and plucked whole bouquets of roses, hydrangeas, lilies for ourselves. After walking like this for more than one hour, I would sneak to our door and put my ear to it. If screams were still heard in the house, my sister and I went on walking. We returned only when everyone was already asleep there. Stolen flowers were placed in vases, and their fragrance soon spread throughout the house, penetrating into our dreams. In the morning, my father scolded us for stealing other people's property. He was always so worried about other people - how we look in their eyes and what is being taken away from them. And he never seemed to care about what was being taken from us, his children. nine0003
Unsuccessful marriage
To an outsider's eye, everything was perfect with us. At home, we were sometimes quiet and serene, sometimes happy and joyful. At other times, perhaps not so often, we were overcome by fear. The fact is that we could never predict what kind of mother was waiting for us, what kind of parents we would have today: normal, predictable, who make us learn and definitely love us, or those who madly pour out their rage on each other, dragging us into your stream of hatred and us.
nine0003
My sister and I became subtle experts, caught the slightest change in their mood and were always on our guard, waiting for the darkness and horror to come into our house again.
I knew from an early age that the main problem lay in a failed marriage. Mother told me more than once that she was married too young to a terrible man ten years older than her. She told how badly her father treated her, that he did not love her, and that she deeply hated him. I was sometimes very embarrassed by these conversations, because I knew that I was very similar to him, inherited many of his features, and he was especially kind and affectionate to me. His mother hated him, and I was a part of him, and therefore, apparently, I was in some way just as disgusting and worthy of hatred. And I also thought that I should reconcile my parents and, if possible, protect them from each other. nine0003
Divorce was out of the question. According to the general unspoken conviction, it would be better for everyone if they never became husband and wife at all. But since they got married and had children, there was no way out for any of us.
When we moved to America, I learned that divorce is normal. We personally knew people from Sri Lanka who got divorced here and each started a new life. Of course, it was still considered in some sense a stigma, but still it was not so impossible here as in South Asia and Africa. nine0003
At the age of thirteen, I strongly told my parents that they should get a divorce. And in the future, I was terribly surprised why they didn’t do this
It took more than a dozen years before I realized that the version of a failed marriage was just a cover for something else that was much harder to see.
Scar
For several years - thanks to the fact that every time I ask her, beg her, threaten to break off communication with her - my mother periodically turns to a psychologist for help. But every time around the fourth month, when the hard work of introspection begins, she gives up this business.
nine0003
Her distrust of treatment is also explained by the peculiarities of the national culture. Traditionally, in South Asian families, mental illness is perceived as something shameful, almost contagious. When my mother was still a teenager, the most beautiful cousin in her generation suddenly went into what is called a psychotic episode. Her parents took her abroad for treatment, but nothing helped, and as a result, she was brought back to Sri Lanka and locked away from everyone in her parents' house.
Everyone knew that she was at home—sometimes even her cries could be heard from the top floor—but no one was allowed to see her. This forced retreat continued for three decades. nine0003
In certain South Asian circles, the madman in the attic is not a gothic horror story at all, but a very real possibility of existence for a woman experiencing mental problems
she used to call me and, crying, over and over again, repeated: “I'm not crazy! Not crazy." Which should have been understood as "Please don't lock me up! Don't throw away the key!" nine0003
Instead of healing, my mother confides in sacred rituals.
As children, we were taken more than once to a certain house of worship, where a Hindu priest brought one hundred limes to our foreheads one after another and cut them across. It was supposed that the caustic juice would splash into the evil eyes of enemies unknown to us, which cause all our misfortunes.
These days my mother keeps emailing me asking if she can send us good luck charms blessed by holy people. He says that he always reads our horoscopes and that I should wear bright pink, and my sister - gold, in order to protect herself from someone's evil machinations. And she sincerely hopes that if we all at least just adhere to these changeable rules, then we will definitely become a happy family. nine0003
When I was seventeen years old, my parents took me to one of the rural areas of India, to the gigantic ashram of their guru Sai Baba, a holy man who has millions of admirers all over the world. We lived there in a family hut - a large and crowded building. They slept on mats on the floor, ate in a huge dining room.
We got up at 03:30 in the morning and, together with our mother and sister, sat on the ground, on the women's side of the courtyard, with hundreds and thousands of other women waiting in the predawn twilight for the guru to appear. As soon as he came out, the women began to chant. Once, when he was slowly walking past us, my mother thrust a letter into his hands, which described all her troubles. And she wept with sincere piety when he received her message. nine0003
This guru was nothing to me. I terribly disliked this place, and their rules, and their food. I didn't like the separation of men and women. In America, I already had a boyfriend, but here, in our barracks, handsome boys also lived, including two brothers from South Africa.
One day, when my parents lay down in the afternoon to "sleep the heat," I went to their corner, and we, sitting next to each other on the ground, began to cut the mango. When one of the guys jokingly threw a knife into the air, I instinctively tried to catch it, and the blade cut two fingers on my right hand almost to the bone.
Blood immediately gushed out of the wound. nine0003
All I could think about then was how angry my mother would be with me. I began to beg the boys and their parents not to tell her anything. I grabbed a roll of toilet paper with my cut palm, then another one - but they were quickly soaked with blood. My yellow shalwar kameez suit was also stained with blood.
People began to gather around, the old women whispered that this was my punishment for talking to the boys
Someone nevertheless informed my mother about what had happened, and when she appeared, her face was cold and stern. She didn't say anything to me, she just turned away and left. Someone bandaged my hand, and my father took me to the hospital, where there were a lot of people. At the door, we realized that he would not be able to enter with me, because the building was also divided into male and female halves. And so I had to wander alone through the corridors of the hospital, where I did not understand a word of the local language.
nine0003
Finally managed to find a doctor to sew up the wound. She turned out to be a surgeon, and therefore she had only a medical thread, which is used to sew up internal organs - thick and black. When she did the stitches, the two injured fingers looked like several huge spiders were holding my skin together at once.
When I returned from the hospital, my mother began to ignore me. I showed disobedience to the queen, and now I simply did not exist for her. Her angry silence lasted for several days. nine0003
Now, twenty-eight years later, I still have the scar on my arm from that terrible cut. He reminds me what it's like to need sympathy and comfort and receive anger and anger instead. He reminds me that in moments of pain and suffering, I will never turn to my mother for comfort, because she - in fact, a deeply offended child herself - will never be able to give it to me.
Do not consume. How to live without money, eat from the trash and be happy - Ekaterina Bodyagina - How to live - Site materials - Snob
- Photo courtesy of the author
“Many criticize capitalism, but the critics' arguments are shattered by their own way of life.
They spend money in supermarkets and shops, fly on holidays several times a year, and pollute the environment with car trips. I know only one person who has gone further than the rest and is trying to live outside the consumer society ... ”- a Berlin acquaintance told me. That's how I first learned about Jenny.
The trailer she lives in with her boyfriend is located near the Russian colony Aleksandrovka. A few tram stops from the central station of the city of Potsdam (bypassing, by the way, Pushkin Straße) - and you find yourself in wooden Russia: carved architraves, as in the Russian outback, a Russian ethnographic museum and a restaurant. Alexandrovka is not a fake, but a real Russian village, leading its history from the beginning of the 19century.
- Photo courtesy of the author
Jenny made an appointment near the Orthodox church. Slender smiling girl. Sweatpants with knees pulled back, a sweatshirt from someone else's shoulder, green galoshes and round glasses that a hipster would envy.
“As a teenager, I advocated a green lifestyle and an alternative economic system, but these ideas were abstract. I was a typical 18 year old girl. Killed hours for shopping and makeup, loved to drive a car at full speed ... The turning point was the university. I don't know if such a system exists in Russia, but in Germany every university has a student parliament. Students are engaged in a wide range of issues: from gender to "green". In the queue for the student, I met the guys from the university branch of Greenpeace and the next day I came to their meeting. Then she began to buy organic products and significantly reduce her costs. nine0003
Then I went to New Zealand. I spent a year in a small village where shopping was out of the question, where people live with nature and from nature. Cosmetics were completely unnatural in those places, and I slowly began to get used to my face and to life without supermarkets. To life outside the consumer society.
- Photo provided by the author
When I came back, city life seemed alien to me.
Even in the brightest moments, somewhere on the periphery of consciousness there was a thought: “Something is wrong here, it should all work differently.” At that moment, I met a man who spent several months in India with absolutely no money. His story inspired me: I started dumpster diving and stopped using shampoo. I felt much freer. The thought of where to get the money from to pay the bills makes a person a slave to consumption, takes up most of the time and distracts from other, more important things. nine0003
A green wooden fence appeared around the corner. Passing a skewed gate with a raven on the top crossbar, we got to a small country-type area. Clay flower pots, cast-iron bathtubs, children's toys, building materials, old shoes fill the entire area around the two trailers. Jenny and her boyfriend Bjorn found this abandoned lot three years ago, moved into an old wooden trailer and started building their own.
- Photo courtesy of the author
“Bjorn always wanted to build a trailer with his own hands and live far from the city, but for him it was not connected with the dream of a different, better society.
For me, our new house is a symbol of “green”, eco-friendly life. About two years ago we were walking, discovered this piece of land and decided to take a chance. At that time, I already lived with practically no money, on 30 euros a month, not counting the rent, which I wanted to get rid of as soon as possible.
At first everything was very romantic: we spent the whole day looking for products and parts for our new house, building and decorating the site. Then it got more difficult. Life outside the consumer society is daily work. Last year, when I ate only harvested food, my weight reached a critically low point. In addition, it is difficult to build a house for a full yearly cycle without unsustainable materials. Even the upholstery for our trailer, which is considered ultra-green, contains 1% plastic. That is why I do not promote my lifestyle and do not impose it on anyone: I know its limits from my own experience. nine0003
Jenny's dream is a gift economy and local consumption.
She grows vegetables in her small garden and absolutely does not want to work for a corporation. “In my life I have earned only 20 euros, which I am really proud of: I sold the strawberries I picked with my own hands. The resources expended on this venture were completely harmless: sun, time, and soul. At the same time, each person gave in exchange what he considered necessary: someone apples, someone the amount of money available to him. I like this kind of work. I also grow fruits and vegetables on my plot, I'm going to have chickens. But not for meat (I don’t eat it), but for eggs.” nine0003
- Photo courtesy of the author
At the entrance to the trailer, there is a homemade Christmas tree: green cardboard egg cartons arranged in a pyramid. The conversation continues over tea brewed from herbs picked by oneself. Jenny's utopia will seem insane to the layman of the 21st century: no nanotechnology, corporations, aircraft, or even cars.
“If only the Internet could be saved!” Jenny exclaims, and it becomes clear that in order to fulfill her ideals, she will give up this too.
