Archive for December, 2013

In my post “The Recurring Childhood Memories” I have shown how sociopathic tendencies are present from early life, but those don’t develop into complete sociopathy without triggers.
Triggers can occur in early childhood as the consequence of abuse, but they can also occur later in life.
I’ve had problems at school when I was little, kids hated me and attacked me but that didn’t make me develop full sociopathy. So even though I’ve never had conscience and empathy, I have had a wider specter of emotions.

There were two main triggers that turned me into a sociopath.

One happened at the age of 16.
I was nearly kidnapped by a pedophile. At that time I literally felt my nervous system shut down almost all of my emotions. I tend to describe that as if my brain switched to a 100% analysis machine and I processed dozens of informations in seconds consciously.
This is what how it happened…

I was waiting for a morning bus, for school. It’s been 7:30am or so. I saw a car pull over and I recognized it as my father’s friend. So I casually got in. The moment I closed the door I realized how wrong I was. But I didn’t show any reaction. That was the moment I was talking about. Something in my mind changed abruptly.
And as you’d guess, one can’t just sit in a car and expect silence. A casual chit-chat started, that bastard started asking questions about my family, nothing suspicious at the first glance, but paranoid as I was, I analyzed every word.
He wasn’t from the town, I could conclude that. After I replied to all those questions he got onto more awkward ones. Do I have a boyfriend? (I said no, guessing that if I said I did, it would seem more tempting to a pedophile.)
I was actually profiling the victim that a monster like him would choose and tried my best to make the opposite.
For example, when he asked what kind of student I was, I guessed an exellent student would be fun for him so I said I was just alright.
Parallel with those analyses I was thinking of a way to kill him. There was nothing coming to my mind that would end it quickly enough and not let him fight back as I wouldn’t stand a chance. (He must’ve been around 50 in age.)
I got even more panicked when he didn’t take the turn I demanded. I knew there was just one more turn to take before leaving town and I had about two minutes to talk my way out.
That’s when he started convincing me to go with him to the nearby city for a coffee. I was making excusses how I have way too many skipped classes, how I couldn’t make anymore, how I had to go to improve my grades. Everything possible. And I couldn’t stand the fact I was in control of someone else. The moment he touched my cheek I was enraged. I remembered I had a pen in my bag, and I used the chance to take it out when his phone rang. I saw he rushed to end the conversation, not giving me longer than ten seconds. We continued to chat, and I was thinking of how hard I should swing the pen to smash his throat in only one hit; how bad would it be for me if a car crash would occur because of the stab; would he still be able to harm me in that condition…
Finally, as he reached the final turn I somehow convinced him to take it. And as he pulled over in front of my school he tried taking my number, but I refused to give it going for the door. It was impossible to open it from the inside, and when he opened them for me he said “I almost stole you.” as if it was all a big joke. I got into school and went to the class. I was still cold, shut off from emotions, I wasn’t even thinking about it. I was just regretting for not killing him. And I still regret it, deeply.
But since then I never regained a significant part of the emotional specter, and I continued to actively analyze every word someone spoke and planning every word I said.

The other major trigger was the hospital. At the age of 18. Recently. I don’t even know why I ended up there, but two days before that the neighbor’s dog killed my cat, and I did all I could to save it (my parents were out of town at my grandfather’s).
Then, two days later I got a high fever, 40°C, and ended up in a hospital.
There I spent the half of the first day in peace, and then they’ve put a baby in the same room with me. That little brat wouldn’t cut the crying for four hours! I was going insane, wanting to strangle it so much I’ve barely held it in. It continued throughout the night and I had no sleep. In the morning I had to take infusion. I was fine with that, but I was too paranoid again I feared that the needle will pierce my vein on the other side, that it’ll break, that something will go wrong. And my parents and cousins moving around the infusion bags was frustrating! I was nervous, yelling at them to watch out, and when my father accidentally almost knocked it down I snapped and made them all get out that instant. I wasn’t left alone in peace for one second. Either family or that brat crying and screaming, and while I was on infusion I couldn’t move for two hours and was forced to listen to it. I was losing my mind. I felt as I was steadily going insane.
I started to get agitated by my boyfriend’s presence, by doctors, by my family. And then they came on the third day, telling me they had to go to the funeral and that my grandfather died. I didn’t give a damn about his death, I was angry with them leaving me alone for two days in that hell. I threw a major fit, saying all kinds of cruel things without hesitating. My aunt (who is a social worker) said I was insolent and I yelled I didn’t care one bit, once again throwing them all out along with the nurses. Len (boyfriend) stayed and I sent him off to get me cigarettes even though it was a hospital. Until he got back I was trying to calm down. And I managed for a bit, consoled by the fact I was getting out in two days.
Then, as the doctors had no idea what was wrong with me, my uncle took my blood for the test in another city. It was a test for AIDS, hepatitis and other diseases of that type as it was only acknowledged that my liver was somehow damaged. The results were positive for hepatitis B. I was at shock. I wasn’t ready to die or be sick and isolated for the rest of my life. I wasn’t ready for that kind of responsibility.
I even met accusations of taking drugs and being too sexually active. Then they accused Len.
It was on the fifth day, when they got back. I was dismissed from the hospital the day after, but that was not the end. I was already different beyond recognition concerning my psyche.
I was taken to the hospital in the city near by a week later, and both Len and I got tested twice. The results which arrived a week after were negative this time and I was angry with my whole family on the father’s side. My aunt was still talking about my intollerable behavior though.
And when all of the dirt settled down I was incapable of remembering myself before it. In one month I lost my old self completely and I didn’t really notice right away as my self awareness from before that was erased. And when I noticed it was long gone.
I became emotionless, ruthless monster myself. And I loved it. I adored it. I wasn’t feeling bad, I wasn’t worried or frustrated about anything anymore. Just indifferent. Devoid of any feelings at all. Completely careless.

Then I grew bored of a relationship with Len and just dumped him with no remorse.
And before I knew it, I was being told that I might be a sociopath by Hayley.
I looked at every article I could, at every list of traits one would have to fulfil to be proclaimed a sociopath. And I was fitting in with all of them.

But I didn’t take it hard. I was actually conntent to finally know what I was. At least now I’m clear with myself and can decide what to do about it. Well, I’m just being a monster I am. At least I’m happier than before.


A lack of empathy is the first thing anyone would say about sociopaths. That is our most popular trait. It doesn’t mean it’s the worst one though. It can even represent a problem in blending in as a normal person because I have to think through every word someone says to me while complaining and recognize which problem demands consoling of the other person.
Every problem other person can have is equal in my mind, and they are all meaningless. No matter if it’s being cheated on, a family member loss, a trauma or merely a bad grade. It is all the same for me, and I don’t feel compassion in any case. But, I am demanded to if I want that person’s trust. So I fake it, and I console them and advise them. This is all a very boring job though, so I avoid a person if I notice they’re feeling down. When I see someone crying to me I just want to run away as fast as I can. But I don’t; I stay and make them feel better in exchange for their trust. Because if I have trust, I have them in control. Still, I did have problems before, when I should’ve expressed empathy and I haven’t simply because I couldn’t figure out what to say or do. (Empathy is the hardest emotion to fake.) And people open up to me way too much. I have information on the darkest secrets of a lot of my friends, even my ex-boyfriends. I do like that, because I can use it for blackmail if something ever goes wrong, but gathering that information is tough. Actually the process my psyche goes through in order to adapt to the situation while I’m being told the horrible secret.
I’ll give a few examples of the situations I really had a rough time acting out.

The first time I had confronted someone else’s big problem was when my ex-boyfriend (calling him Len) had told me about his father cheating on his mother.
Len is the introvert type of person that acts tough, and won’t show he’s bothered, but is very sensitive and empathic. He didn’t even ask for empathy, and I didn’t show it almost at all. He did tell me about his family falling apart, and how he’ll make his father end that affair. Now, this had shown he does care, and that it does affect him in a negative way. Even though he had expressed only anger, I could see he was under pressure by knowing it and not telling his mother. It was eating him inside. Once he asked if it was normal to want to kill that other woman. That’s when I knew he was about to break. And still, all I did was observe.
After a few days I have decided to break up because that relationship overwhelmed me, and wasn’t fun anymore. I left him hurt and didn’t even ask if he was alright about the family issue. I just didn’t care.

The second case is when I knew to fake worrying perfectly, but it was only a break-up, and I wasn’t so bothered, even had fun on making that girl hate her ex. But, in my head, I struggled to understand why is she so hurt? How can she cry for him after finding out he cheated on her? Why? I was sharing her pain and showed full understanding, but I had no idea how it actually felt. Why does she need someone to cry to? Why telling a problem makes it easier to take? I was so confused it scared me.
I kept my mask on easily though, not showing a speck of my confusion. This girl thinks I’m the best person she could meet. I am a saint in her eyes. Always there to help and put others’ worries before my own. It is all a mask of course. As she’s still a 15 years old child I can train her like she’s a dog not a person. That’s why I linger around her anyway.

The third case was another ex-boyfriend. This guy was really messed up. He lost his father in a car accident when he was seven. Since then he lived with mother and sister. I got together with him because I was bored, and he seemed so easy to manipulate.
This guy never showed any emotions to others, always being the one to hurt and mock others. But it was just a defense mechanism. After only one month he told me he loved me. It was funny to me, and I just told him he doesn’t even know what love is. But I let him convince me he does. After all, it was good for me. He would glorify me, make me feel as if I was the most beautiful girl in the world, I was getting a shower of presents. That was also the time he started opening up to me. As I said, his head was one big mess. He was aggressive, possessive, and cold. But he was also sensitive and vulnerable with those that meant to him. That’s how I knew he was not a psychopath as I first thought. He told me many things about him. How he was cutting himself, how he was suicidal (and still is I reckon). And I reacted cold on all of that because I was annoyed by his possessive behavior. I cheated on him after two and a half months with Len before we got together for the second time. And I told him that. The fact that he didn’t want to break up with me even then and asked me to repent and promise I won’t do it even again enraged me. I told him it’s done coldly and walked away just to meet Len 15 minutes later. He was also furious though. He gathered his friends and attacked Len in front of me. That’s when I snapped and nearly got into a fight with one of them myself, but Len held me back. (All the things with Len I described in the first case happened after that.) And again, I wasn’t feeling at fault for him getting beaten up because of me. I felt proud for making two guys fight over me, but I faked my empathy once again.

The fourth, and the last case, happened recently when Lilith came to visit. (My friend I mentioned once who was living in the capital city for university.) She also had family problems, her mother cheating on her father. I couldn’t quite gather myself again. This topic is obviously a problem for me. Maybe I’m simply too young to comprehend family problems, and with the lack of empathy I just don’t know how to react naturally. I only acted as I felt sorry and said I couldn’t possibly help. She was fine with that, but I saw she was burdened by knowing this. She asked me how I would react if I found out my mother was a cheater and I just remained silent. I couldn’t say I wouldn’t care, although that is the truth, so I said I didn’t know for sure.

I still don’t understand why people trust me so easily. Sure, I have my “perfect friend” mask on, but I heard so many times that people just feel when there’s something wrong with a person. I read countless times that someone simply had a gut feeling about a sociopath being wrong even before finding out they were one. It doesn’t seem like that to me.
Anyway, I guess it’s just human nature to trust people. I never trusted anyone, but it is probably because I know I can’t be trusted and that there can be others like me anywhere. People can trust others as much as they can deceive. And as a sociopath can deceive anyone, they also can’t trust anyone.
We live our lives alone. And cope with everything alone even though we’re mostly surrounded with people. Because we lack empathy, we don’t need it for real either. All we need is your trust so we can use it against you and toy with your emotions. Monstrous I admit. But that’s simply in our nature.

So if you ever have a gut feeling about someone, better don’t open up too much. Who knows what hides behind the compassionate eyes looking back. The truth is you can’t trust anyone but yourself.

I have quite a problem of remembering much of my childhood. Actually, I fail to remember many things from my past that I was indifferent about. And I was indifferent a lot. It often happens that I can’t remember my day at school when I come home, but I perfectly remember what I’ve been thinking about in classes. It’s just that I neglect my surrounding so much that I stop being aware of it. And it’s only natural that I won’t have any memories of what I’ve been doing there if I was on “auto-pilot” to put it that way.

But, this is how I’ve been functioning since always, and as my memory is quite selective I forgot many unimportant memories. They still do come back if something reminds me of it. It can astonish me sometimes, as if those were someone else’s memories.
I did keep remembering some things, but that amount is very small. That might be because I’ve never had a habit to look back into the past. I would only install the important information into my brain and discard everything that I might not find useful in the future (at least what I thought I won’t then). Some things were just plain fun, and that refused to stay the most. That is something which I needed to remember now that I realized I am a sociopath.

I was trying to recall some events that might help me remember if I had some sociopathic traits in the childhood. And it wasn’t going too well as I realized I almost have nothing to remember. No material for examination. So I gave up and went with watching the TV. All of a sudden a flashback strokes me at the sighting of an ant colon on the TV. There were the memories I needed. I had sociopathic tendencies ever since I was little, now I was 100% sure. I thought I’ve never tortured animals, but under animals I counted only larger animals; mammals and birds. But what about insects?

I remembered how I enjoyed playing with ants in front of my house as a kid. There were two separate colons, and I found the one with bigger ants later. In the beginning, while I had only those barely visible ants I would demolish their shelter and watch them trying to dig their way out and the ones out to find a hole. But when I found those larger ants (around 1.5cm) I changed my way of playing. I was cutting off parts of their bodies with a thin stick and watched them walk around in panic until they’d die. I also disturbed the whole colon and watch them attacking the stick in my hand but unable to do anything. I enjoyed knowing they are in my mercy and that I was the one bringing fear and commotion in their peaceful life just because I felt like it.

Other than ants I was torturing large bugs, ripping their wings and legs off and watch them die. Or breaking snails’ shells with a fork or covering them with salt. I had so much fun doing all this, and zero conscience.
Mother taught me not to torture animals, she even taught me to be very fond of them. But, she never mentioned insects, and no one seemed to pay attention to stomping on them. Even killed them on purpose. But others were simply killing them coldly, I thought of why don’t they have fun first as I did? But I never asked of course. It made me smarter, and it made me better than the rest.

I wasn’t falling behind with menacing other children either. Starting from kindergarten I was the silver-tongued one, but I would freak out if some kid decided to disobey me, and would give into physical violence without thinking. So instead of going there for two years parents signed me out for the second one. Then I went to preschool at sixth year of life. I was again violent, but more controlling and I used verbal violence if I could fix it like that. But I was cleverer then. I would manage to make teachers there like me, and would bother kids only when they weren’t watching. It all continued through elementary school, but kids there hated me, and even older ones were picking on me, calling me a freak, a monster, a lunatic, always in groups. I would lay my hands on one of them though and while the others were beating me I wouldn’t let go of that unlucky one, quite commonly bringing serious injuries onto her/him. In the end they’d always just try to detach me from that one kid. But I would scream and laugh, not paying attention to my painful bruises until it was all over. And yet, my mother always managed to make me seem as a victim. After all, I was just defending myself from the group of four or five kids attacking me. She even threatened to one girl which was the fifth grade when I was the second one, and that I got into a fight with.
In the fifth grade I calmed down and stopped fighting almost completely. In the seventh though, a guy I hated kicked my dog and I kicked him in the knee almost breaking it. He hit me with a bag and caused my cheek muscle to snap in two. Luckily I have no visible scar, but there is still a 2cm wide cut that can be felt under the skin tissue. I was furious and was unable to stop crying, promising I’d kill him one day. And again, even though I had started the fight, I ended up as a victim as he was a problematic child from the foster family.

Remembering all this made me realize I was, after all, a child with those traits, and not only the triggers in later years turned my sanity upside down. I never had conscience or empathy for humans. I despised them and toyed with them from the very beginning of my social life. But I have had a speck of emotions for my family still. Then came high school and the casual mask creating started. I wrote about that in the post “Being a Social Chameleon”.

But I was missing on early childhood part so much that I know now: One does not simply become a sociopath because of a few traumas. That’s the way for PTSD. Sociopathy is definitely something one pulls from the genes, and it only gets triggered to worse, but it’s there even without it. It is there for the whole life. Right from the second child breaths in for the first time.

Alright, I can say I whined in my last post quite a lot. And that crisis of mine lasted for a couple of days only, really. The thing is, I felt that awful void in a my mind constantly, and I couldn’t take it longer than a day.

I once more consulted Hayley. Now, as a sociopath, I can’t ever become normal or “cured” but I have a chance to get better if I only manage to reach the core of the whole disorder.

What makes me miserable?
How to prevent it?
How to adapt to the new behavior?

These were the three main questions I had had to ask myself in order to detect a problem.
She warned me though. I went with high expectations right away, already knowing I’ll manage to do it all alone. Hayley just said I need help, a professional help that is. Because even if I find a problem I wouldn’t work on it, but just find a way to avoid it in the future.
I gave it some thought and she was right. I was always willing to cooperate when I was depressed, but that passes very quickly, as soon as the slightest change happens, and I get back to my old over-confident self that is content and doesn’t need any help.
This time I wanted to at least find out what exactly my main problem was.
What makes me feel down most commonly? What hurts me the most?

That is the main problem.
I can’t take defeat in any sphere of life, no matter how meaningless it is. (For example, I got extremely irritated when I lost a game of chess against Hayley.)
So, I would have to learn not to be so competitive. Not to take every event as a competition. And not to overreact if I lose at something. That doesn’t even sound possible for me.
Also, I’d have to stop planning every step I make, and every word I say. Every sentence that I tell is aimed to achieve an exact effect I want. I need to stop that too.

Hayley was right then. I had found what the problem is, but I won’t do a thing to solve it. At least not in the right way. That’s why I divided this post into two parts. This was the first part.
Knowing the problem.

Now the second. Solving the problem.
Well this is where a sociopath will stop.
There are a few reasons for hitting the brake, plus taking the wrong turn.
First of all, a sociopath is always right and he/she doesn’t admit the mistake/problem to him/herself. They see it but only objectively. Personally, they’ll just give in to easy way and only work on their manipulation skills in order not to get defeated the next time. But, there is always a situation where they will lose; that’s simply natural.
So the cycle just continues, and a sociopath won’t achieve anything.
The reason they’ll let it spin like that forever is because they can’t learn from their expirience and believe that “this time” they won’t let it happen. Because they are the best after all.

See I know all this, objectively as I said, but I’m still not changing a thing.
Due to a blockade this disorder brings, I can only work this out in the right way with the help of a professional. It doesn’t end here either. Because I don’t want to change when the crisis passes.

With the change, I mean that, as a sociopath, I need to learn to adapt to defeat and learn to not take it so personal. And I also need to learn to stop planning and struggle so much to hold everything in control. Honestly though, it bothers me to even think about not doing that.

To look back on the whole talk again.
Why it is so hard for a sociopath to ever accomplish the successful treatment?
The period of depression lasts too short, and that is the only course of time we’re willing to get the treatment. As soon as it passes it’s like a different person. Too stubborn and convinced that he/she does not need it due to superiority complex.
Then avoiding of obligations and changes. A sociopath frequently cannot define their true personality, and the thought of changing the ways they’ve been working with is absolutely out of question. So, we’re left with working against ourselves, or be forced to treatment by family, friends or law in the worst.

Sociopaths differ from psychopaths for one reason. They weren’t all born completely the same way they become. Some of us used to have emotions in the past; at least brief ones. And those emotions fade no matter if those are the triggers that erase them or just a snap of genes.
Anyway, most simply forget how it was to feel, and get completely adapted to the new life they get before they even notice. I did too. That is, until I found out I was one.

I truly enjoy the feeling of freedom from conscience and empathy. I love the way I am, and how that sets me free from all the suffering people go through for unimportant things. I used to at least. The first thing I felt when I found out was pride. I loved the fact I can kill as easy as snapping my fingers. And I just continued acting the same way. I couldn’t even remember what it’s like to feel. I did not even try, because I did not care to. Emotions are weaknesses.

And then I’ve heard one song, Jupiter Crash from The Cure (I accidentally found it in my PC), that made me feel somehow. Not real emotions, but I felt different. Something like sadness I guess, but still not quite like it.
It is a song I used to love very much when I was younger, and I remember I cried when I listened to it. Not because I could relate, it was simply sad and beautiful. And that hit me so hard. I felt my mask slip, and everything turned around in my head. And I started crying.

Tomorrow I spoke to Hayley about emotions and the way I used to be. I asked her if she remembers since I couldn’t remember myself from before the hospital.
She said I was more sensible. Certainly less than other people, but I still had it. She reminded me how I cried if my favorite character in some series died, or how I smiled more sincerely at times. But I still can’t remember how it felt. I simply forgot it all. She suggested though, that I might have cried simply because it didn’t go as I wanted it to in the series, but I couldn’t remember even that. And due to that I’m even not certain if I did feel right emotions even then.

It made me think anyway. I couldn’t get my mind off it. What I was missing, how I am so different, and how I’ll never feel what is so normal to. I can understand emotions, and I can act them out, but I can’t really know how they feel. I am missing on such a simple thing. Something everyone is taking for granted. Something I was taking for granted while I had even a hint of it. And when they were gradually washed away I didn’t even notice.

I can’t forgive myself that. And yet, there is a side of me that doesn’t even care. Most of the time I think I’m lucky. The sociopath within me is happy. She doesn’t need anyone; she is the best of all. But she is as cold as ice. Able to control and manipulate. To be whoever, whenever! But none of those personas can feel real emotions.

But I got over that. I stopped looking back at that simple fact as a negative trait. And yet, I can’t listen to that damn song without remembering when I could cry because I simply felt like it, and not because I wanted to in order to gain something.
So if you ever even think being a sociopath is a blessing, imagine your life if someone would take your emotions away from you. It is far from blessing, it is a curse. If I was this way since birth I wouldn’t be jealous at people, but like this I sometimes am. I envy them, and hate them for it. And then I punish them because they have something I don’t by turning it against them.
Now that I heard it again I could write all this and I don’t believe I will play it ever again.
I am a sociopath, and I can’t do anything about it, so why bothering to remember something that’s passed? I’m not even sure that I’d want to.

Boredom. A thing people solve by simply finding something to do, weather that be playing video games, reading a book or calling a friend for a coffee.
But with sociopaths all this just means more boredom.
Boredom with sociopaths usually occures when they lack people’s emotions to reflect. But that’s not all. Merely reflecting is not enough. It might reduce that unstandable boredom, but to fully remove it a sociopath needs to play with those emotions.

This state of not being able to satisfy the crave for thrill striked me when I cut the contact with my old friends (Anna, Dan and the others from that pack). I had no problem in forming a new circle of people around me, but there was something I wanted to try with these new people.
I wanted to try and not plot any harmfull situations, but just try with hanging out with them as a normal person (the mask is the only thing I created and stopped on that). It soon proved as insufficient though.
Why bothering if there’s no satisfaction to gain; the satisfaction produced by seeing them do what I want and how I want.
But I decided to stay on that and see how long can it last.
In the period of just a few days the boredom came.
I found myself bothered in every sphere of life. I was unable to focus on studying less than before, I couldn’t stay at school for all classes and would just drop off and sit in a nearby café. I was nervous and unable to keep my temper in control for the slightest irritating events. So, I started plotting again, in my head only, still not putting anything into action. I even thought of getting back to Dan and start a serious war with him. I got more determined into slaughtering the neighbour’s dog, wanting to do it as soon as posible instead of waiting the perfect chance.
I became restless, stopped being able to sleep and, overall, got on a verge of being able to keep control. I was about to go on a rampage.
I’d look through the window for hours, with a scalpel in my hands, trying not to storm out for the dog. Focus and reasoning had withered away. That’s a monster I’ve mentioned in a post “A mirror reflection with no soul”. But, this is the form it takes when there is no depression involved.
In order to kill that boredom I’ve even considered going to the psychiatrist and toy with him as it would be an actual challenge to pull off. But I did not go after all.

And all of this just because an everyday thrill which came in small waves was cut off suddenly.
I stopped being able to hold my mask on due to the lack of patience. So, this was the point when all of the sanity was gone. It wasn’t fed regulary and it ran off like a dog would from its careless owner.

This was the point where I had decided I have to take control again. I was about to become a criminal. Stealing, menacing, and even a murder were now an active plans, not only something going on in my head.

Hayley told me I had become unbearable to be around, and had a monstruous spark in my eyes. It never occured this bad before. That’s when I said “screw it” and went back to manipulations.
I formed a completely new arrangement, setting it in the way of the highest exploitment of people I befriended possible. It was nothing serious, but it included financial and physical exploit. I needed them for a party I organised, and I had them to do all the job concerning preparation, with me only as an instructor.
It was enough for the start. I had a group of people under my thumb and it did help in regaining a certain dose of control. I settled down concerning serious crimes, it still wasn’t quite enough thoug, but I decided to wait with emotional exploit.

Although, the monster inside takes a long time and much effort to calm once it fully awokens.
There’s where you can recognise plain insanity. A bare desire to do harm to anyone possible.
A sociopath has self-determined principles, but they also get violated at the time of boredom. So, it is a killing factor in sociopath’s life.
I brought it onto myself though, so I had sources to prevent it, but if a sociopath falls under this without being able to find a solution soon enough they can easily give in to a serious criminal deed. It would include anything, starting from small theft to rape and murder even. The higher their aggression is and the longer it gets suppressed – the harder crime they may commit.

It is highly risky to engage into any private doings with the sociopath in this state, so if you have a sociopathic friend and notice these traits stay away until it settles and don’t go into any suspicious places he/she might suggest “to comfort his/her needs”. It doesn’t have to be dangerous, but for your own sake, wait a bit until that sociopath gets better, and gets down to the usual pattern of behavior again. But, distance in a descreete way, because if you cut the contact abruptly for no obvious reason for them, you might just point all of their rage at yourself. And you truly do not want that.

This is something connected to sadistic sociopaths. So, not all socios have homicidal tendencies. If you read the post “Classification of Sociopaths”, I’ve noted that only the last type (Mental manipulator) doesn’t have these tendencies, but they are outnumbering the first two types significantly.

Anyway, how does it look in our heads? (To make it clear, I’ve never brought any of my murder plans into realization)

First of all, the person I choose as my victim is not chosen because I hold some amount of hate towards. No, it is always someone police couldn’t link me to. Also, they’re usually irritating to me for some superficial reason (the tone of voice or the body language can easily be the cause).
I really enjoy sorting people I’d kill while sitting in a bus every morning. It is enough for someone to nudge me accidentally and they’re on the list.
When I do this all, I get engaged into planning the murder weapon and the course that torture should take.
Now, every sociopath has different approach on this, but my favorite weapon was always the knife/scalpel.

To distance from the topic for a second here in order to explain the knife thing.
I haven’t chosen knives as my favorite because I simply like them. This affection towards sharp objects dates far into my childhood. At the age of six I already loved taking forks from the kitchen (my parents were holding knives out of my reach). When I’d lay my hands on one I’d hide it and storm outside. There I was poking snails and larger bugs until I’d tear them completely. Later I’d simply go to the bathroom, wash the fork briefly and place it in the dishwasher.
I also loved watching blood flow. As I was quite clumsy I had numerous brief cuts and scratches all over my legs, insect bites too. The usual kiddy injuries. But I always scratched them until they’d bleed and then watched the blood. It fascinated me, and I really kept doing it until today.
A few times I even made cuts on my arms with a surgical scalpel I took as my own long ago and still keep it. I’m carrying it with me most of the time really.

Back to the main topic.
I have an amount of knowledge in anatomy, since I was interested to learn the position of every organ, muscle and artery in the human body. I also read on performing an autopsy and surgery. So, now I have at least some basic knowledge on how to dissect a person and keep them alive as long as I want.
Sure, it sounds a bit disturbing I guess, but sadism is engraved in my bones really.

The other case where I really thought of realizing a murder is to lure some pathetic punks into a trap.
I know my town is full of those, and I know that attempts of kidnapping young girls by luring them into a car are also frequent. Happened to me once, by a pedophile, and even today I regret for not killing him. It was a perfect chance, but I had only a pen as a weapon and I talked my way out of it. (I’ll describe this situation in some other case in details though).
The thing that keeps going through my mind actively is to stumble across those younger idiots and get my chance when they start thinking I’m their victim. I could get away with self-defense and not be judged for a murder.

These are all theories, and I doubt I would actually do any of this in reality. On the other hand, I could in the future.
For now though, I keep it in the head, and it’s satisfying enough. I do plan on slaughtering my neighbor’s dog. But it killed my cat, and a few other animals. I warned the neighbor to euthanize it but he won’t listen. I’m also not the only one who suggested it. So, there won’t be any harm done, I’ll just spare my cats from early death, because those cats are significant for me.
Concerning people, I am writing psychological or horror stories and novels, and that’s where I put my sadism in practice.

There it is then. This is what’s going on in sadistic sociopath’s mind on a daily basis. But, it doesn’t mean they will necessarily become murderers for real. It all depends on the person though, I can’t even guarantee for my future self, let alone other sociopaths.