Manipulation
I was very scheming and hurtful in my relationship with one boyfriend in particular- the only person with whom I successfully had a long-term relationship other than my husband. I tried to manipulate and coerce him into performing homosexual acts with other guys because it got me off, and I became enraged when he refused to comply. A whip smart debater, I was very good at justifying my abusive behaviors, to the point where I had almost convinced us both that he was being the irrational jerk.
I remember once dumping scalding fries with hot gravy all over this boyfriend’s head, and ripping the shirt off his back at another point during the altercation. I had a vicious temper.
Violence
Once, the girlfriend of this boyfriend’s brother made the mistake of confronting me at a party in which we were drinking and generally trashing his mother’s house. I went berserk. I don’t remember all of the details of our fight, but I used my diamond ring to scratch a very long, deep gouge into her face that required stitches. I was thrilled and empowered by the fact that I had managed to afflict her so severely, for she was a big girl, but I never felt remorse and consistently insisted that the incident was entirely her fault. In fact, I made her out to be a crazy person; for she had attacked me first, although I most certainly provoked her. Indeed, these kinds of situations provided me with an excuse to say to myself… “Ok. Now I am TRULY justified in messing you up”, and let loose with aggressive abandon.
“Magical Thinking”
By that time, I had become practicing witch. Unlike some witches, I had no problem exploring “black” magic right away. I invented bizarre, intense, hate-filled rituals, in which I sat naked and used my own blood as a reagent, and sought to exact vengeance against those who crossed me. I filled journals with hate-filled vitriol towards my exes’ new girlfriends. I really believed I successfully tormented my enemies through these rituals.
Provocation
I was not racist, but I occasionally dressed up as a skinhead because I revelled in the looks of outrage on the faces of black people when they stared at my big Doc Marten boots and their bold white laces- an emblem for white-power. I threw pennies at Jews. I looked for fights to pick.
Bloodlust and Thrill-Seeking: Playing with Knives
I went through a stint where I became obsessed with vampires. There was a time a certain boyfriend and I discussed at length the idea of murdering someone, just to see what it would feel like.Though I was excited by this topic, a mild discomfort would settle over me as we considered the illicit subject, and I knew, even then, that I would never be capable of such cruelty.
Nevertheless, the thought of slicing into someone’s skin and licking their blood does not make me shudder with revulsion; in fact, it is mildly arousing. I know I should be ashamed to admit this, but I am not, nor am I tormented by the fact that I occasionally have thoughts of this nature, even to this day.
A friend and I used to chase each other with knives occasionally because we both drew a perverse pleasure from such altercations, which were more like an act, although our anger was very real. (At least, his was; I don’t remember feeling much except for excitement.) Once, our fighting got sufficiently out of hand for someone in our group to call the police. At that point, we immediately covered for one another, and our bond was sealed. Ironically, he is the only childhood friend I have kept in touch with over the years, but we communicate only sporadically.
Apart from this person, I have not carried into adulthood a single friendship from my adolescent years. In retrospect, I believe he is a sociopath. We were literally partners in crime.
He has tried to talk to me about his black rages and alcohol abuse, but all I can do is point him to Jesus.
Healing ASPD 