Not a Monster: Words of a Sociopath

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It would seem this is not common knowledge, but the people denying the fact are as aware of it as anyone else. They merely prefer wilful ignorance, which is a shame. Their cloak of denial shields them from their own sins and ignorance. So much unity between fellow human beings could come from embracing the truth.

Below is a truth as obvious as the fact that the sky is blue and the leaves green.

I am human.

Even if I am a sociopath, a narcissist, and a borderline.

I would love to repeat it to you, dear reader, so that your brain may process what I am saying.

I am human. No, I am not a monster.

I embrace Ruby, in all her entirety, from her uniqueness to her beauty.

I embrace who I became to survive the childhood I did not deserve. A childhood of violence, screams, ego, and neglect.

For that, I do not require anyone’s acceptance or validation. The mere fact that I escaped my abusive environment, and overcame homelessness, financial insecurity, and harassment from my abuser validates that I am strong and persevering. I challenged my abusers and the system as a sociopath, narcissist, and borderline, and most importantly as a trauma survivor.

To all the people who inspired me to write this because I had the misfortune of witnessing their fascism, demonisation, and oppression of people like me, my middle finger goes to you. I’m here to advocate for my basic human rights and dignity. The following journey won’t be one of cupcakes and rainbows.

There exist White supremacists. There exist male supremacists. And there exist supremacists who believe they are inherently more worthy than anyone who is a sociopath, psychopath, narcissist, borderline, or histrionic. Let’s call them psychiatric supremacists.

The truth is, I am beyond fucking exhausted. Writing this will steal more energy from me than bad sex. People like us deserve to be seen and heard. Dear reader, see and listen to us.

Even as a teenager, I knew I was safer locked away inside my imagination. In there, I could rest in refuge alongside Satan, my friend and ally. My equal. Satan was cast out and abandoned for daring to defy the rules and refusing to bow down to a megalomaniacal god. I resonated with Satan as a loner myself, and someone who was queer and defiant in a conservative, religious, and fundamentalist household. Satan never abused me or tried to force me into a mould I did not fit.

Nor did Satan disparage me for how I survived my trauma. Satan witnessed me and listened to me.

When I would feel scared and alone, Satan would appear at my side, comforting and consoling me, stroking my hair, reminding me of a hopeful future. He was my symbol of freedom. And even now, I am very grateful to him.

My childhood and teenage years existed within the sphere of extreme and prolonged childhood abuse, domestic violence, sexual abuse, and relentless bullying. I’ve seen my siblings choked, my mother threatening to drop my infant brother over the stair railings numerous times. I’ve seen my mother holding a knife over my brother’s neck, threatening to rip it open. My siblings and I were used as punching bags and objects of servitude. We were shamed when we were molested by a religious teacher and family friend. My relatives forced me to watch a graphic and violent video of a frightened woman being stoned to death when I was not even twelve yet. This, and many more, is why I am who I am. It is why I am a sociopath, a narcissist, and a borderline. It is why I am unapologetic. I should not have to apologise for a childhood I did not choose. It is why I am writing my story. My voice deserves to be heard after being silenced for far too long. After everything I have been through and survived, I refuse to allow society to demonise me when said society has not walked a day in my shoes.

I am not a fool. I know better than to reveal my most tender moments with the world so that I may be hanged at the gallows or burned at the stake as a witch. I am writing this because I am passionate about mental health. I have lived experience and am tired of suffering in a world not built for people like us. I do this to resist eugenicist rhetoric and fascism which is often perpetrated against the personality disorder community.

Society views my disorders as the “scary disorders.” I have no interest in satisfying their pre-existing expectations of a masked figure lurking in deep, dark alleyways at night. I am not a monster. I am vulnerable. I am traumatised. I am neurodivergent and mentally ill. And I am human.

My perspective is essential to provide an important voice which is non-clinical, non-medical, and speaks truth into the universe. I will be branded as manipulative, deceptive, and gaslighting even while writing this, because people moralise my nature. People use confirmation bias to prove their points. Those narratives and confirmation biases are weak. If you truly understood as a reader, just how marginalised Cluster B people are, you would understand that writing this and revealing my vulnerabilities is extremely dangerous. Society often dismisses, disparages, and disregards people like us.

Don’t get it twisted. All of this is not to say that I have not suffered at the hands of sociopaths, narcissists, or borderlines either. I most definitely have. I have been abandoned, rejected, and shunned. There are people from the Cluster B community I dislike. They could get run over violently by a car tomorrow and I might feel amused. That doesn’t mean I believe they should be targeted because of their disorder. If I tolerate targeted violence against a group of people with a specific mental illness, that opens up the avenue for all people with mental illnesses to be oppressed and discriminated against.

There are Cluster B people who also hypocritically and ironically engage in bigotry against their community. Low-spectrum sociopaths, narcissists, borderlines, and histrionics are bigoted against higher-spectrum community members with more severe traits. People with BPD are bigoted against people with NPD and ASPD because they view them as natural enemies and manipulative of their emotions and desire for closeness. People with NPD and ASPD can be bigoted against people with BPD by refusing to validate their emotions and flattening them into “pussies,” annoying, and weak. HPD stigma can also occur from within the community by being branded as “slutty.”

I don’t write this because I love every single sociopath, narcissist, or borderline I meet or encounter. Everything I write here, I do so because it is the truth. And the truth will set us free.

I remember passing a graveyard once. Right then and there I knew that life is about love. And that when we die, we will be at peace. I knew not to fear death after that. I have visited cemeteries since then to re-experience an otherworldly sign or presence. I wanted answers about the true purpose of our existence. Through my considerations of mortality, one of the greatest lessons I have learnt is that empathy and compassion is the purpose of life. I write this to spread empathy and compassion.