“I ended up dropping out of uni because he would sabotage me at every turn. I’ll never forget when I was working on a major project and he would keep walking past me calling me a f**king b**h and spitting on my piece.”

Reader, writer, thinker, and nerd about all things pop culture and feminism.

"From my perspective no [there were no signs]. He was genuinely a decent guy. Had a sales job (that's how he had the time) I did/do sales so we got along.

Then seriously the night of their wedding he got really controlling. It was light switch flipped. They went on their honeymoon the next week and she called me half way through thinking she made a mistake. She said he just picked at her for saying the wrong thing and his idea of the future made her sound like a slave. I didn’t think to much about it, alot of people have fight on their honeymoon. She got pregnant like a month into it. Then he moved her back east so they could live with his mom (even though he was suppose to be making a lot of money).

She quit calling me as much after the wedding. I assumed it was newlywed plus baby planning. So didn’t think to much of it. Then we noticeably drifted. I didn’t know till years later that it was because he got mad when ever she talked to other people." — Harveyquinn6

"After he got out of prison, he smoked meth on parole. He didn't want to go to jail again, so as they walked him up an outdoor flight of stairs, he hurled himself off the second platform onto his skull. It did just enough brain damage to get all charges dismissed and be remanded to the custody of his mother. He thinks it's a pretty funny story, too." — spermface

"He's wanted for killing a girl in another country now. No clue where he is, but I'll randomly get contacted by him. It's been years, but he still contacts me. All he says is "I love you." Once, he got into my email and changed my name to "I love you." I know 100% it's him. I've seen and been through a lot of fucked up shit in my life. It is what it is. But that man takes the fucking cake for the most awful experience in my entire life. There are people I meet or see on TV that have the same exact look in their eyes or voice pattern as him, despite looking nothing like him. I avoid those people like the plague or turn the TV off. It's like they over-enunciate certain points of words yet have a monotone voice. The letter 'T' especially. Like they're parroting a human. One thing he always did was watch YouTube videos and practice in the mirror on how to look happy, sad, concerned. It was insane. Everyone thought he was the greatest guy on earth. His mother tried to warn me that he'd kill me. Fucked up." — dontniceguyatme

"Fren, are you me? Quite literally EVERYTHING I knew about my ex was bogus. Even down to his birthday, which he blamed on an error at the DMV, which is inaccurate because they have you check your license before you leave (at least in our state).

Isolated me from my friends and family, yet we saw his all the time. Threw bitch fits if my parents came to visit for a weekend to see their grandkids. When my grandmother passed, he sent me a barrage of texts accusing me of only going to her funeral to cheat on him. (But when he left his Facebook page open, what did I find? At least three different girls sending him DMs.)

I could go on and on, but I won’t. I found out the truth, with cold, hard evidence and court records to prove it. He hasn’t seen my kids in five years; no phone calls, no cards on their birthday, no nothing. I have sole physical and legal custody, and I prefer it that way. He’s since moved on to a new wife, has a new baby, and is a pastor. Lol. He would likely deny all of this or have a convenient (albeit flimsy) excuse for it.

"So an example would be that when he asked me for something, I knew he wanted it right then. So whenever he contacted me to ask for something, I’d say, “Sure, that sounds great! I get off work in three hours, and I’ll come right over with (whatever he wanted) after that!” He’d say no, never mind. I’d act like I was disappointed about it, so he thought he had successfully ‘punished’ me. He thought I was still on the hook. I’d do this over and over until he stopped thinking of me as someone he could get things from. It took a while and a lot of acting upset when he would berate me or snap at me (I specifically remember sitting in his room while he yelled at me about where I put my purse down, thinking, “Okay, remember Vi, this is very upsetting. Look sad”) but it did work without him going to any extremes. And we lived in the same building, so it was hard to just avoid him altogether. Obviously, your mileage may vary." — _violetlightning_

"If he didn’t have it, he would lose his shit, throw things, smash things, etc. It was safer for me to keep him high, and in turn I smoked a shit load to escape the reality of the situation. I finally got out when I found that he had had prostitutes in the house (and in my bed). I finally opened up to my friends about what had been happening, and they got me out of there. It was fucked up, but I try to see it in a positive light. I’ve learned and gained massive self-esteem since this happened, and I find I can easily detect sociopathic and narcissistic personalities, not people, now. I still get super triggered by things, especially males yelling or showing aggression. I still get annoyed at myself for breaking down in these situations, but each time it happens, I feel myself heal just that little bit. I see it as a wound reopening, but then the scar tissue builds up, making me stronger each time. Sorry for such a long rant; seeing this question hit me, and it feels good to get a bit of the stuff off my chest." — thornedcheezus

"He kidnapped my child during a visit. Because our divorce was final in our home state, nothing could be done. It took me two years of fighting to win full sole custody of my son, who is now grown and doesn’t have much to do with his dad. There is, of course, a lot more to the story. Psychological warfare and such. He tried to make me think I was going crazy when I started to become suspicious. He tried to torture me for 18 years. I haven’t spoken to him in five years, and I feel free. He has been told that if he so much as tries to speak to me at events for my son (Graduation, college graduation, military basic training graduation), I will walk away. I have nothing to say to the man, and he has nothing to say to me. My son learned on his own what type of person his dad is and is remarkably well-adjusted and full of empathy." — middlegracie

"I had no desire to marry him. I was too young and I'd already begun to hate him at that point. But before I had the opportunity to figure out what was going on and how the hell we had just gotten engaged, he announced our engagement to 200 people. People were congratulating me and I just felt so hollow and broken inside.He ended up moving and that's the only way I got free of him. I'd tried breaking up with him a few times before then but somehow he always made it seem like I had to stay. The day he moved I blocked him on everything, and swore I'd never talk to him again. I still have trauma and am triggered surprisingly frequently, considering it's been over 2 years.But yeah. That's what it's like dating a sociopath."

"The tumult—the rapids—were ultimately a script of rapidly oscillating states of being. He would apologize and promise he would change. He would cry and beg for me not to leave him. If I tried to make him leave, he would pivot to threats or demean me. Everything happened on his terms, even if it didn't seem that way. Outwardly, he appeared to be a patient, kind, and charismatic partner. He was conventionally attractive, intellectually gifted, and socially adored. His views on life were reasonable and measured, and his style of rhetoric is, to this day, one of the most engaging and convincing of anyone I'd ever known. The acts of cruelty and humiliation were rare at first, growing to a crescendo during times in my life when I was the most vulnerable. I lost my best friend—the abuse escalated. I got a new job, and it declined. I left my job, and it escalated. I found a new job, and there we were, back to celebrating again.

When he was good, he was so good. I would start to believe that I must have just been too hard on him—after all, things only got bad when I was already doing poorly, managing grief, loss, and depression. So it seemed reasonable to me, for a while, that he was right when he said I was just "projecting my inner turmoil onto him". I believed him, for a while. But that mask just can't stay on. He always needed to have the upper hand. And he always needed to use it to drag me to the edge of the abyss and hold me over, while I desperately clutched and grabbed at the arm that held me, begging him not to let go.

I know now that this is typical of narcissistic abusers. I know now that his moves were calculated and methodical. I know that he hit me when I was already down because it was the easiest to manipulate my worldview during those times, and to create a dynamic in which I was so afraid to lose him amongst the other losses that I would forgive him for whatever he had done, even if what he had done was slowly bore a hole into me, removing pieces of myself that I had left defenseless to exploit.

I know now that the true trap is the poison in the sugar. I know that it's the sweetness, the overtures when you are stronger that truly ensnare and contort. And I know that it was not my fault. It had never been my fault.

I tried to leave him 10 times. It took me nine months after the abuse first started to get out—six after the first serious events started to unravel. I didn't think that sort of thing could happen to me because, well, I had studied this sort of thing. I knew these signs academically. I was so certain I'd recognize them. I am a strong, outspoken, and almost aggressively independent person, someone you would think incapable of being victimized. But there I was. It happened to me. And in it having happened, I understand now how truly insidious abuse is. I understand why women can't or don't leave. I understand why I was so, so wrong to think they were weak for not fighting or running away. If an abuser is smart, like my partner, they don't just break you down. It doesn't happen all at once. Instead, you become eroded. He didn't have to hit me even once to make me afraid of him, alienated from my own body, and distanced from my true sense of self.

Beyond the obvious words of wisdom I am sure most people will impart in this thread, I'd just like to leave you with this, if you're still with me:

"I give you bitter pills in sugar coating. The pills are harmless—the poison is in the sugar." — BabaYagatron

"I was too young, and I'd already begun to hate him at that point. But before I had the opportunity to figure out what was going on and how the hell we had just gotten engaged, he announced our engagement to 200 people. People were congratulating me, and I just felt so hollow and broken inside. He ended up moving, and that's the only way I got free of him. I'd tried breaking up with him a few times before then, but somehow he always made it seem like I had to stay. The day he moved, I blocked him on everything and swore I'd never talk to him again. I still have trauma and am triggered surprisingly frequently, considering it's been over 2 years. But yeah. That's what it's like dating a sociopath." — shoshilyawkward

"My first clue that something was wrong was when he told me that "men don't ever feel love when they're having sex." When I informed him that I had had plenty of sexual encounters that involved feelings of love on both sides, he assured me that "those men were lying to you. No man has emotions when sexually aroused."

He also had several "rules" that had to be followed in order to continue the relationship. However much money he spent on me, I must spend on him. A certain number of texts per day. A certain amount of time within which texts from him must be answered. Hair has to be a certain length. Makeup and perfume at all times, even sleeping. Eventually it got to the point where he was insisting that he should be allowed to have sex with other women, because his sex drive was higher than mine and it "wasn't fair". This last one is what caused the most fights. He cheated So. Many. Times. I once yelled at him "You're only sorry you got caught!" and he said, clearly surprised, "Of course I'm sorry I got caught. If you never found out about it, who would it hurt?"

He had zero empathy. My grandmother died, and he could not understand why I couldn't "make myself" stop crying when I heard. He was annoyed that he had to drive home from the funeral because I was in no shape to do so. "The funeral's over, nobody's here but me, who are you crying for?"

After nine years of psychological torture, he finally left when I got the news that I had breast cancer. My parents took me on a 3-day beach vacation to clear my head before the first round of treatments began—he refused to come along, and on the day before we were supposed to return, he left a message on Facebook that said, "We're done. I'm out."

I called to ask why. "Because you have cancer." Short and to the point.

I told him, "This is what's going to happen. You're going to keep fucking whoever it is that you found to fuck, and in a few weeks or a few months she's going to realize you can't love people, and she's going to dump your ass. And that's when you'll start calling me again. I'm warning you now, don't do it. This was the line. I don't want to see your face again. I will finally let my brother beat the shit out of you."

A few days later he "accidentally" sent me a text with a picture of him having sex, that said "Abby (not my name) that was the best night of my life and you seemed to have had fun too. " I texted back "Nice try but we're still done" then blocked him." — sweetalkersweetalker

"His ex contacted me later and revealed that he had mentioned to her before that he had ASPD. Though, from what I understand, they're rarely that self-aware. Anyway, turns out he was also a white supremacist who believed in the "tiered value" of the races. Probably the scariest part was discovering this piece of fiction he had written a couple years ago about "owning" a 13-year-old girl, starving her, keeping her on a leash, just general terrifying, disgusting bullshit. The premise was a story about a man and his dog, how he abuses and neglects the dog, but the dog still sits around to get fed. It gets quite graphic, and at the end of it, it's revealed to readers via a cop character that the emaciated dog is actually a small child. Yep, need to work on my radar." — atinkleintime

"A few times when we were hanging out we would sit near the same people over and over. Looking back, she was stalking people, and we were invited along, but she acted like they were stalking her. We totally believed her.

She made herself my best friend as much as my wife's after she was convinced I wouldn't go away. When we (wife and I) wanted alone time away from this friend, the girl seemed impatient, and always called in the middle of our outings with an emergency. At some point I finally told her we wouldn't answer during certain hours.

Genna didn't get mean then, she started getting nicer to me. She told me how strong I was. She told me how cool I was. Hell, she tried to seduce me, and even tried to take my hands and put them on her body. By then I kind of started seeing through the bullshit, and if I'm being honest, I just didn't want to be the guy that cheated, so I turned her down. Thank god my brain was louder than my dick.

She started telling my wife I did these totally believable and also horrible things. The thing was, my now wife was starting to realize how warped things were. She never had a single friend longer than a week besides this girl, and I was her first boyfriend. I had tons of friends (even though I was awkward as hell), and nobody had a problem with me hanging out with other people.

The second anyone took my wife's time from her Genna would accuse these people of doing or saying horrible things.

My wife was so afraid to end the friendship she had me do it (I did not push her into it). Genna's last words to me were "Well fine, I guess I should be locked up then" and she slammed the phone down, disconnecting.

Years later these strange girls approached me at college to tell me how I ruined this girl's life. Baffled, I asked who I had hurt. It was my wife's ex-BFF. The story was that I made her cut herself and she had a nervous breakdown after I stalked her, and she was institutionalized over it.

I had never met these girls before, but had seen them on campus in the areas I stayed around several times.

So she was getting her new friends to follow me, because they thought I was stalking her.

I finished school and moved, plus I never had much of an online profile, so I haven't seen or heard from her in over a decade, but I did run into her mom.

She was institutionalized, but it had nothing to do with me. She was also anorexic, and needed treatment for that + "other stuff."

Her mom said that she was getting married. Poor guy.

I guess this is more of my wife's story than mine. I really was a sideline character. I just feel like it's my story because Genna made me feel like I was the center of the universe, for good and bad.

She was crazy, but you forgive a lot when you slowly adjust to it." — Made_you_read_penis

"He started drinking heavily and would take absolutely anything to get high. He hated where I was from so we moved out west. He stopped working altogether and was drunk 90% of the time. He would hit on girls in front of me. Blatantly. He became physically abusive. I was stranded with him and we were living in a crappy motel. Everyday was a nightmare. We finally found jobs up north. He decided he couldn't hack it and needed booze and drugs. The night he left me he slept with a good friend of mine. She was passed out drunk and he basically raped her. My skin crawls thinking about him and all of the shameless lies he told. I was happily single for four years afterwards. He used to say he was the only one that would date me because I have OCD. He was such a psycho. He'd throw temper tantrums when I refused him beer money. A lot of warning signs I missed because I was working so much. I've been with an incredible guy for five years and have had to change my number and block my Facebook. This guy still thinks he has some bizzaro power over me. Nope!!!" — Leighlabelle

"He made me question my idea of reality because I was sure these things had been done and said but he denied doing them intensely. He also tried to delude me into thinking I was too good for people — he told me I was too good for my family and that they were abusive and that he could save me from them. His power revolved around the idea of him 'saving' me — and looking back, I wasn't the first girl he had done this to. At one stage, he told me that I should be thankful he saved me from my depression because he had also apparently cured drug users as well. He used to withhold affection from me and wouldn't talk to me until I apologized for whatever he did, and he would threaten to leave me if I didn't apologize. He believed he was too good for people and things and would often tell me I had done very well to be with him. He also used the power he had managed to give himself to manipulate people — he manipulated me into sex after we broke up with promises of love, and then when I finally gave in to his multiple requests to get back together, he told me he did not love me anymore, never would again, and neither would anyone else. He treated me like a child and made all my decisions for me, including how I dressed — he would treat me differently when I was dressed nicely than when I wasn't. I began to notice something was wrong when he wouldn't be happy for my achievements and instead would expect me to be happy for things he did. However, if I did something good, he would downplay it and tell me it was nothing. An early warning sign should have been that he interfered in and broke up my previous relationship so he could be with me - he believed if he couldn't have me, no one could. He also constantly lied about his life and achievements, and still does. Overall 0/10 experience — would not recommend to anyone." — sociopaththrowaway12

"Ultimately, I realized it didn't matter what type of girl he dated because HE was the problem. Unfortunately, it took me two domestic violence incidents (TWO!?), being homeless, living out of my car, getting pregnant with his child, and many other countless dark experiences before I was finally able to get out of it. Now, 12 years later, I am happily married and have full legal and sole custody of our son. The only legitimate fear I have now in raising my son is just how strong his father's genes are." — snagdip

"During one of the times she had broken up with me (I believe this time was because of my musical tastes?) I got together with a much more sane, cool friend of mine. We kissed, but I ended up, for some goddamn reason, getting back with this girl, as I ALWAYS did for whatever reason. Well, the psycho found out I had kissed this other girl and started emailing her death threats. It was at this point my friends and I really realized she was insane. I dumped her, got with the other girl (who I dated for nine months!), and my friends and I never spoke to her again." — Polyvector

"She stopped caring about whether or not I liked her or thought well of her and just began to indulge in pushing me around.

She'd begun to keep tabs on my interactions with my few remaining friends, banned me from keeping a blog, would read through my phone, and wanted access to my emails. She flew into a jealous rage when I had any social interaction that wasn't with her and had a great knack for making everything my fault. I began to find that she'd just straight up lied about a lot of things at the start of our relationship to get me interested.

I wasn't permitted to do anything without her; we had to go everywhere together; I had to be present at all times so she could make sure I wasn't 'talking about her' to people. We'd go out with her friends (never with mine anymore), and she'd keep me off in a corner and pretend that I wasn't her girlfriend so that she could flirt with other people, and would scream and shout at me about how selfish and petty I was being if I asked her not to. Her ego was massive and completely out of control; I can't even begin to cover some of the totally mental things that she did just to keep me doing what she told me to do. And the more she controlled me, the less she respected me and the more she felt excused in abusing me.

She was manipulative to the point that I still struggle to believe that anyone could be that incredibly unkind and self-involved, but that was how she did things and, after a year and a half I'd been reduced to a shell of my former self. I was the first person who'd ever dumped her and I'm still a little bit proud of that.

She went off to medical school, and I cut her out of my life completely as soon as I could; she was nothing but poison and probably the most devastatingly narcissistic person I've ever met. It took me years to recover from the abuse and, even a decade later, I still catch myself in one of her little mind-traps.

She was only 23 then. I dread to think what she's become now.

Edit to say: she didn't have a diagnosis of any kind because she refused to believe that there was anything problematic about the way she behaved for most of the time we were together.

Toward the end, when I started getting a bit stronger and refused to back down, all the time she would sometimes admit that she was being unreasonable... and also that she was really unhappy. She told me that she had started getting some counseling, but I strongly suspect that this was a lie to make her look better. She was probably the most intelligent person I've ever been involved with, and I doubt very much she will ever seek help or get a diagnosis because she doesn't have to — she'd talk her way out of anything." — butwhatsmyname

"He never seemed to have any other friends or family and would constantly be hitting on other girls in front of me (which, for some reason, I was stupid enough to ignore). He said he needed almost $1300 from me for rent and guilt-tripped me into giving it to him — I never saw that money again. We made many plans, and he would just bail at the last minute and wouldn't hesitate to make up lies on the spot. After a year, he must've got bored of me and literally just cut all communication (without giving my money back). I later heard from his ex-flatmate that he would bring back a different girl each night of the week at the same time as dating me." — throwaway000100010

"Constant cheating, constantly beating the shit out of me, threatening to tell social services that I've smoked weed before so I would lose our kid if I left, told me he used to pray I would miscarry, told me he had to cheat on me because I was "no supermodel," told me if I died, he'd "be sad for a minute but get over it really quickly," called my mother several times after I had discovered another affair to tell her how "concerned" he was for my mental health, while flashing pictures to me of his newest conquest at the same time, called the police when a friend had me over to tell me of an affair and told them that he was afraid I'd be violent and possibly on drugs when I got home, and oh, he ended up spending three years in prison for raping an ex-girlfriend, and is now back in jail for running his last girlfriend off the road with his car." — withar0se

Responses have been taken from threads 1 and 2, and have been edited for length and clarity.