The terms ‘psycho’ and ‘sociopath’ get thrown around a lot in movies and pop culture. But when you personally meet an actual psychopath or sociopath, it can be bone-chilling.
In a brutally honest AskReddit thread, people who are related to psychopaths shared the heart-stopping moments when they were legitimately scared for their lives. Keep scrolling to read their experiences.
Just be warned that some of these stories are so emotionally intense that they might not be for everyone.
#1
My nephew (through marriage) is a crazy little s**t. Once, the entire family was playing hide and seek. He was around 9. He didn’t like where I hid so he flew into a rage. He tried to hit me, I grabbed his wrist and twisted just enough to subdue him. He screamed like a freaking manic. I released him. He then ran into another room stating he needed his nerf gun to shoot me because he shoots people whenever he’s mad.
I looked at my SIL and said “Seriously, you’re OK with this?” Her response was that his rage was my fault, I had no right to touch him and that I should have just let him hit me since he’s “only a boy.” I told her, quite firmly, that if her crazy little b*****d ever even gave the appearance of causing harm to one of my children that I would put him down like a rabid dog. Fortunately (I guess?) her husband, my wife’s parents and everyone else present told her that she was wrong, her kid was f*****g nuts and that this was a serious red flag.
Flash forward two years. Kid is still crazy but that’s everyone else’s problem because he’s still “just a boy.” I’m staying at their house. Things have mostly settled from that prior incident. I wake up very early every morning. So around 4:30, I find myself awake. I don’t want to get up and wake up everyone else so I just sort of lie there and meditate. At around 5:20, the door opens. Thinking it’s my kids, who were young at the time and still came to get us early, I kind of just glance up. Then I notice that it’s the nephew and he’s holding what *appears* to be an AR-15.
Now, I suffer from PTSD from Iraq. So my fight or flight response is triggered, my heart is pounding and I’m basically in survival mode. I wait. I watch. He creeps past the foot of the bed, walks up to my side and raises this rifle up to point the muzzle at my face.
So I figure, this is it. I’m going to die. Today it ends. The only goal I have for myself right now is to prevent him from harming my wife and kids. He raises it up and the muzzle is a few inches from my face. I reached up, I grabbed the muzzle and I pushed as hard as I could, sending the butt into the little psycho’s face. His nose is bleeding, he’s crying, he’s screaming about how he’s going to k**l me, how I’m f*****g dead etc.
So now everyone is awake. Lights are flipped on and I see that it’s a *toy* rifle made to look like an AR-15. Apparently, this little psycho s**t was planning to stick the muzzle in my face and pull the trigger to scare the s**t out of me with flashing lights and electronic gun sounds.
I feel somewhat torn. On the one hand, I just broke an 11 year old’s nose for playing with a toy gun. On the other hand, the kid had all of these tells that he was dangerous and what he was doing was super creepy and yet another red flag.
My SIL was f*****g pissed. Her chosen narrative is that I’m a mentally unstable lunatic who is a danger to all children. She calls the cops. She insists, despite the protestations of my wife, that she’s having me arrested and charged with child ab**e for hitting a boy for playing with his toys.
Police arrive. Interviews take basically the whole day. I’m a little worried that, getting arrested aside, I might not be able to leave this sh*thole and go home the next day as planned because these cops might not be done with their investigation.
Fortunately, it didn’t play out that way. See, this little *We Need to Talk About Kevin* a*****e wasn’t just a crazy s**t around me like in the movies. He was a crazy little s**t everywhere and had been for years. The police had a file on him because the school was required to call the police every time he threatened a school shooting (which was often).
I laid out my version of events much like I did here. I didn’t see him and have a flashback thinking he was an insurgent. I saw him, I knew what he has going through his head, and I wanted to try to prevent him from k***ing my family.
They did let me go home on schedule. And a week later the detective called me to let me know there would be no charges. He also told me that his interview with my nephew was “chilling” and he hopes that my SIL pulls her head out of the sand and gets the kid some help. I told him she won’t ever. And when he’s 30 years old and on trial she’ll be crying and saying he’s just a boy.
Hopefully he doesn’t hurt anyone but I know the odds are stacked against that hope.
Before anyone asks, I refuse to stay at their house. If we are in town, we stay in a hotel. He is never allowed to be alone with either of my kids. And he is also not allowed in my house since he was caught trying to steal a pocket knife which he said he needed for “surgery” on the family cat (he was almost 12 at the time).
EDIT: Since I’m getting PMs asking, no, he hasn’t been arrested for forced into mental health counseling despite repeatedly threatening violence at school. My SIL is a lawyer by training (she hasn’t practiced in many years though she is still a member of the bar). When she can’t threaten her way out of a situation, she has plenty of friends who *are* still practicing who are willing to write sufficiently forceful letters. She also scored an injunction against the school when it suspended her shitberg son thus preventing them from actually suspending him. People like her are the reason why no one takes action on some of these incredibly troubled kids.
Image source: anon, EyeEm/Freepik (not the actual photo)
#2
Not me, but my cousin (eleven at the time) was caught smoking and skipping school by my mother. My mum told him she didn’t care about him skipping school (because his mother wouldn’t have cared) but told him
not to smoke by her car.
He didn’t like being told what to do, so he grabbed my brother (two at the time) by the hand and walked him out into the middle of the road, by a blind corner. He sat my brother down and told him not to move, then he walked away.
Luckily, a neighbour had seen what had happened and grabbed my brother before a car could hit him. That cousin is now in an Indonesian prison possibly facing the death sentence for smuggling d***s, by the way. Dreams really do come true, I guess.
Edit; context. I’m tired and left out my cousin’s childhood aspiration to be a d**g lord, then forget I didn’t write it in. That’s what “dreams really do come true, I guess” is referring to.
Image source: SeaBeeDecodesLife, EyeEm/Freepik (not the actual photo)
#3
My younger brother (who I’m still living with) has about 2 months ago started to get very aggressive towards his classmates and has also been kicking our dogs and things like that my parents have tried to punish him but the only way they feel as if they can get through to him is through spanking him and what not (he has told me all this does is make him more angry) and about 2 days ago he told me “you’re pretty unlucky you don’t have a lock on your door” some nights I also wake up to weird noises in the hallway connecting my room to his, so yeah that’s worrying…
UPDATE: they went to a therapist and they believe that he may have depression and some form of social anxiety I do know that’s a pretty quick diagnosis but I trust the therapist and her opinion, he should be getting some more therapy for it and medication if he can get it, thank you all for the advice and help in the situation!
Image source: bloodypinkytoes, EyeEm/Freepik (not the actual photo)
#4
My mom was 19 when I was born and we had a very close relationship when I was little. She was always more of a friend than a mom, and that’s just how our relationship was. Before my stepdad, I was always sarcastic all the time, and we joked around a lot.
One morning my mom asked me to take the pizza boxes from last nights dinner out to the garage where we put the cardboard recycling. I jokingly told her no as I gathered up the boxes to take them out. I took them out, put them on top of the stack of other cardboard, and turned around to go back into the house and I bumped into my stepdad who had come in behind me without me noticing. He then proceeded to lift my 13 year old body completely off of the ground by my throat and pinned me against the wall of the house. He got in my face and was screaming at me about disrespect. I remember flecks of spit getting on my face. My feet were back on the ground but I was still pinned and his hands were around my throat. I was able to get one of his hands in my mouth and I was biting and scratching him. I don’t remember what happened next. I don’t remember how I got to school. The next thing I remember is sobbing in a private ensemble room in the band hall. My mom still doesn’t believe me.
Over the next two years he continuously got worse and permanently destroyed my relationship with my mother. I started sleeping with a knife under my pillow when he was home. I started running away and doing d***s. Eventually my behavior became bad enough that my mom sent me to live with my biological father. Life is better now. I am safe. I still have the occasional nightmare and cannot stand any sort of confrontation whatsoever but I’ll be okay.
Image source: SamiMoon, Freepik (not the actual photo)
#5
I had several with my brother, but the worst was when I woke up to him sitting on my chest with his hands around my throat. He was trying to choke me, but his hands were too small and he didn’t get the pressure right so I ended up with a giant hickey around the entire front of my neck instead of death. All because I ate the last nutty bar.
Image source: mailboxheaded, EyeEm/Freepik (not the actual photo)
#6
I didn’t think my sister would murder me, per se, because she enjoyed abusing me too much to straight up k**l me (lol).
One of the biggest things that sticks out from my childhood growing up with her a**se was occasionally if I was sitting on the couch (back of couch facing kitchen) she’d come up behind me and run a butcher knife along my shoulders and neck until I turned around and realized she had a knife. I think she just enjoyed the fear in me realizing what was going on, that look of “oh my god that was a knife? Why the f**k do you have a knife?”
My sister did s**t like this my whole childhood, and even after she was 19 and I was 17 she’d do crazy s**t like throw a knife across the living room at me if she was mad enough at me. I cut contact with her as soon as I was able to leave at 18.
Image source: anon, EyeEm/Freepik (not the actual photo)
#7
I have a male cousin who I strongly suspect is some kind of sociopath. When I was a child, I’m female by the way, I lived next door. He was in high school and I was in grade school. His family had a pool and we would often go over and hang out, which I dreaded b/c this cousin would, when no one was looking, sneak up on me and either throw me into the water or get in with me if I were already in and hold me under until I was so out of breath I would actually breath in water and go limp and he would pull me up with me coughing and choking or I would claw desperately gasping for breath, he was laughing all the way. It was horrendous and it was creepy how jovial his expression was. He did this all the time and his parents or one of mine, usually my grandmother, would either mildly admonish him if caught or he would do it when no one was around. For some reason I was afraid to tell the extent of his a**ses. There were smaller things, little acts of harassment like scaring me, taking my stuff, pulling my hair, taunting me, but the near drownings were the worst! This all went down b/w the ages of me being 5-9 and he was 14-18.
He also picked me up and literally held me, feet first, over the railing of the Royal Gorge Bridge on a family vacation. I think I went into shock and I just recall becoming very still. For that he did get in trouble at least. He apologized b/c he was forced but his eyes were always kind of dead but with a sparkle if he were doing something egregious. Like a happy kind of twinkle.
Oh yea, once he had his brother hold me down while he poured tequila down my throat, he did get caught for that b/c I had to go to the ER.
As a kid he was always running away and once k***ed a stray cat by choking it with barbed wire, he had on some kind of leather gloves. Weird thing is is that all the neighborhood boys thought it was cool rather than call out his crazy. When he turned 16 and drove he would purposefully run over stray animals and laugh and brag about it. NO ONE DID ONE THING! Enablers for sure. Talk about normalizing/minimizing bizarre behavior.
He was extremely good looking-like model material (but not to me b/c I saw what he was under the skin), the high school quarter back, adored by all, girls fought over him, he played football on a scholarship at a Division 1 SEC school but suffered a knee injury that ended his career.
In high school and college he was always getting in trouble, frequent fights and DUI’s, but he got bailed out every time and again, probably due to his athletic ability, it was swept under the rug. He also bragged he had his girlfriends do his school work.
He has been married three times and has stuck with his third wife who is a martyr type. Scary thing is he is now a high school football coach and has been for decades and was just promoted to assistant principle. Scary, because I think he has no business working with minors.
Image source: Anon51155, EyeEm/Freepik (not the actual photo)
#8
My mom, brother, and I came home to find all of my mother’s diplomas and certificates had been gathered into a pile on the floor of our shared bedroom and burned. My mom is blind and had not been given much schooling as a child, so she worked her a*s off once we were in school to get an education. Unfortunately, at this time we were forced to live with my grandmother and two mentally ill uncles. One of the uncles had a grow room, and the other didn’t approve of pot, so he destroyed the room and blamed my mother. Dealer uncle became enraged and decided to burn my mom’s certificates because “You destroyed something I love, so I destroyed something you love. Your kids are next.” This was a week after he shot my brother’s cat because he was angry she had kittens in his boat.
I’ve blocked out the next couple of weeks because apparently they were pretty bad, but I’m told that we had to disappear that night with only what we could carry in garbage bags.
Image source: Haceldama, EyeEm/Freepik (not the actual photo)
#9
My then 15 year old cousin tried feeding my sister (then 5) and I (then 9) rat poison.
Image source: BeautifulRebellion, volodymyr-t/Freepik (not the actual photo)
#10
Started chatting with a girl online and after a bit she sheepishly admitted that she had a criminal record.
We went on chatting for a bit, she was cute and VERY interested in me, but of course the conversation eventually led us back to the criminal question. Turns out she was on parole. Now I NEEDED the story of how she got into trouble.
She finally took a pic of her parole document and sent it to me. I was reading it and came to the line where it listed the offense she had committed.
**HOMICIDE**
Can you say GHOSTED?
Needless to say, we never met IRL.
Image source: iconoclast63, Freepik (not the actual photo)
#11
Listening to my dad trying to persuade my mum they should k**l me. I was about 8 maybe. I was a difficult child and my dad often couldn’t cope. I remember sitting on the stairs while they were in the lounge listening to their argument. Eventually he persuaded my mum and I heard them moving so I ran upstairs to hide. My dad came up and dragged me into the lounge. He was holding me down in the floor shouting to my mum “do you want me to do it, I’ll do it if you wanted me to”. She was crying and couldn’t decide. Eventually she said no and he let me go and I ran back upstairs.
I think they planned to k**l me a few times but that was the scariest one. Another time my dad asked me to give him a hand getting something out of the shed. When my back was turned he hit me in the back of the head with a hammer. I turned around and he was staring at me. His eyes looked like they were going to pop out. I ran past him to go to my mum who was making dinner in the kitchen. I was crying and shouting about what just happened but she didn’t look at me or say anything, she wasn’t shocked. It was like she knew what he was going to do.
Edit: Thank you so much for your kind messages. To answer some of your questions and give more info:
We were like a normal family in many ways. I went to school, went on holidays, I went out with friends, just bad things would happen at home that nobody else knew about. I think the worst things happened before I hit puberty. As a teenager it got better but we rarely got on, I would barely speak to him and he used to get really angry that I was ignoring him but there wasn’t anymore physical violence. I remember when I was 15 maybe, we were arguing in the living room and he came charging towards me. It was the first time I stood up to him, I charged back at him with my fists raised, I was so angry and I thought I could take him. He backed off straight away. He looked like he was hugging himself as he ran off. From what I remember he didn’t try to hit me again after that.
I don’t know if this is true but I was doubled up with stomach pain one night. My dad told me my mum tried to poison me, he brought it up in a few arguments. My mum was a sweet woman, I can’t imagine her wanting to k**l me off her own accord. I think my dad persuaded her to poison me.
I left home at 18 when I went to uni. I don’t understand why I didn’t leave sooner, I know I was scared of how I would cope in the big wide world and that’s what stopped me leaving. I felt broken like I wouldn’t be able to support myself. I moved into a house with my best friend and 6 others. I remember thinking it was so weird how nobody shouts at each other.
No I’m not in contact with my parents, my dad died a few years ago from brain cancer. I barely spoke to him before he died. I don’t speak to my mum, she denies anything ever happened, that he never hit me and we just had some bad arguments sometimes. I don’t feel like I could have anything to do with her until she acknowledges how things were when I was young. I think she is scared of the truth coming out.
I was 26 when I first told someone about some of the a**se. I had been practising meditation every day for a few months and I think it helped to unlock things I find difficult to think of. I had some flashbacks to a time me and my dad were in my bedroom and my dad pinned me down on the bed face down and I felt so weird, I was being shaken and he was pushing my head down. My interpretation is he r***d me. At the time I didn’t know what was happening, A couple of weeks after remembering this I rang my friend up and told him. He was very supportive. My dad would sometimes get into bed and touch play with my p***s. Sometimes we had to do a ‘naked health check’ where I had to take my clothes off in front of him and he would examine me. Sometimes he would sit down next to me and just grab my p***s, sometimes pull it so it hurt. I didn’t see it as sexual at the time.
I remember telling my primary school teacher that my dad was trying to k**l me, she kinda laughed it off, told me he wasn’t doing that. In year 6, so around 12 years old I didn’t want to go home and came close to telling my teacher I don’t want to live at home anymore. But I thought if he doesn’t take things seriously straight away, I will probably have to go home and if my dad found out I had told someone he might k**l me so I didn’t tell him.
We had quite a docile labrador crossed with something unknown. I came home one day, opened the living room door and my dad pushed the dog towards me and he was shouting “go on get him” the dog bit me on the arm but not very hard. I remember at least one occasion he made me hit the dog and sometime later when it was just me and Sandy the dog, she growled and looked scared of me so I couldn’t go near her. He made the dog unsure of me and that really bloody hurt because I loved that dog.
I’m going to take a walk now but I’ll come back and answer the rest of your questions.
With regards to my dad hitting me with a hammer, it was one strike with a typical hand-held hammer. I don’t know how much effort he put into it as I was facing away from him. He asked me to look for something at the back of the shed when he hit me. He struck me on the top of my head. He had ample opportunity to hit me again but he didn’t, he was just stood there shaking and then I ran off to find my mum. I think he wanted to k**l me then but couldn’t go through with it. I had a lot of nosebleeds and some seizures that weren’t investigated but I don’t know if these were before or after being hit. There was another time when we were in my bedroom and he was speaking softly about something. All of a sudden he just flipped and started punching me in the side of the head as hard as he could then he darted out of the room. I physically couldn’t move my body for an hour or so.
To most people my dad was a polite, gentle man that loved his family. He didn’t drink or do d***s, had a full-time job which he held for 20+ years before passing away. He was very nervous around people. He had no friends but occasionally spoke to his brother on the phone. He resented his dad. His dad left him when he was young, and then went on to have more kids and he was jealous of them.
I started looking for mental health help about 2 years ago. I was depressed and stressed every day. I got a referral from my Dr to the mental health department, we did several tests for mental health issues such as ADHD, Aspergers and autism. I showed signs of ADHD more than anything. All results came back just under the level for any diagnosis. We mutually agreed to end support as I was doing OK. A year later I asked for another referral from my Dr as I wasn’t coping with remembering sexual memories with my dad. I had already spoken to my mum and her brothers and sisters about what they could remember, my mum had contacted my Dr to say I was being delusional, remembering things that never happened. I was referred back to the same mental health Dr, who had already heard my mum’s version of the story. I was prescribed anti-psychotic medication as they thought I was experiencing delusional memories. I went to about 5 appointments then stopped going as I felt like they were dismissing anything I was saying about my childhood because they believed my mum, and so giving me the wrong medication. The main reason I stopped going was that I thought they didn’t believe me.
Image source: Ibrokemywrist, EyeEm/Freepik (not the actual photo)
#12
I have a cousin who used to k**l neighborhood cats as a little kid. One day he just up and left. No one has seen him in about 13 years.
Image source: Richard-Hindquarters, EyeEm/Freepik (not the actual photo)
#13
Not a family member but my mother dated a crazy person after her divorce. We moved into an apartment and he moved in with us not long after.
He had long hair and blue eyes and a beard and was the spitting image of “White Jesus.”
And he took it to heart after a few people told him about the resemblance.
He pulled me aside one day and told me that he had a secret and he wanted to tell me but I couldn’t tell anyone else because the government was looking for him. He confided in me that he was in fact Jesus Christ and the he escaped from a government facility after being captured in 1964. He said he escaped with the help of the Pope during his visit to the USA. The Popes private security force broke him out and once he was free the Pope advised him to blend in with regular people. He said the Pope told him to not draw any attention to himself…so no miracles…and tell no one. But he trusted me with this information.
Jesus Christ was a roofer in case you were curious.
He constantly carried around his roofing hammer aaaand one day it went missing.
Jesus lost his s**t.
He locked my mother, my girlfriend, and myself in our apartment until it was found. This lasted 3 days. I was 18 at the time and was much larger then him and would have had no problem physically removing Jesus from our apartment but my Mother insisted he was having a mental episode and if I hurt him or did anything it may mess him up even worse.
Turns out he left the Hammer (which is really pretty much a hatchet) at a job site and a co-worker drive over to return it.
I sat there like an idiot and watched this guy hand a f*****g axe to this lunatic and did nothing. Big mistake.
Our three day long lockdown turned into 5 days. The final 2 days was this illiterate nutcase attempting to read aloud from the Bible getting maybe 1 in 5 words right. Remember in school when the teacher would have people read aloud and go around the room and there was always a dude you knew couldn’t read for s**t and his part would last ten times longer then everyone else’s part? Imagine that for 48 hours.
Jesus would only let us eat bread and water. And the bread ran out quickly.
There was a lake outside our apartment and on the 5th day Jesus was looking through the blinds at the lake and called me over to him. He confided in me again.
He said “you know I could walk right across that lake and right up Into heaven.”
I replied…”If you do that I’ll follow you anywhere…go for it man I would love to see you do that.”
My plan was to get his f*****g a*s out of the apartment and lock the door so my mom and girlfriend would be safe…and prey to this guys dad that I can run faster then him and make it to a pay phone to call 911.
He looked at me with his crazy a*s eyes and said “YOU TRYING TO GET ME CAUGHT M**********R! I SAID NO MIRACLES!”
He raised up his roofing hammer and told me the only way I was following him anywhere was in the afterlife. It was at that point I thought…I’m going to die and then he is going to k**l my mother and girlfriend.
I came to the sudden realization that I no longer cared it Jesus’s mental breakdown would be effected by me beating the s**t out of him or not. That was no longer my problem. Mid rant about some religious s**t about two inches from my face…I swung as hard as I could and punched him right in the sternum. He still had the hatchet cocked over his shoulder (like someone throwing a football) so the blow caused him to lose his balance and fall over a dining room chair.
He crumpled in a heap and my mother…ever the cool head…screamed at me for hitting him. I had knocked the wind out of him and he was gasping for air. My mother assumed he was dying. I would learn later in adulthood my mother was not the brightest lightbulb.
My girlfriend booked out the door with me close behind after grabbing my mother’s arm and dragging her out of the door.
I called the police and they came and got him.
Last I heard he was in a hospital after he locked himself in a bedroom still saying he was Jesus. He was committed after he used a metal throwing dart to pick veins out of his arm.
Never did get to see him walk across that lake though.
Image source: blackjesushiphop, EyeEm/Freepik (not the actual photo)
#14
I grew up with an a*****e father. Both emotionally and physically, although he “dialed down” the physical a**se when I was around 11-12, due to the fact that my golden-child older brother had learned the ways of abusing me, physically as well.
Anyway, when my parents got divorced my brother went to do a year at a boarding school, so guess who was left alone with an emotionally a*****e father who’d just lost his wife. His a**se increased exponentially, and it was of course even worse after I had spent the weekend at my mom’s.
People who’ve experienced a**sers know that it is all about being in control. When my parents got divorced, my father insisted that me and my brother kept living with him. My brother went of to boarding school and my father lost his job, plus the house we lived in was too expensive, so we had to move out. That’s a lot of control to lose for an a****r, especially on top of a divorce, so you can probably imagine the abuse was at top level.
One weekend I was at my mom’s, I fell very ill with the flu, so I ended up staying for a week. Then monday the deal was I went to school from my mom’s and after school I would come home to my father’s. I was so sad at going back to that place, but back then I had no idea what a**se was, or that my father and brother were a*****e (I was 13 at the time). My father wasn’t home, so that was nice. He didn’t come back before I had badminton practice, so I made myself some dinner and went to practice.
I was home around 9pm, and my father was absolutely f*****g furious! He yelled and screamed at me, demanding to know where I had been, and before I could answer he went on and on about how he had called everyone and no one knew where I was, and the deal was I was to come straight home from school. Completely shocked and baffled, I told him I had badminton practice, as I have had every monday for almost 3 years straight, and it always ended at 9pm there was nothing different about tonight. then He got even more mad at me because I never told him when I was going anywhere, and he screamed at me that if it was always on monday, then I should write it on the fridge calender, and all his misery was my fault because I couldn’t even think enough to myself that I had to write it down, and he screamed at me for so long I can barely remember what else he berated me for.
It left me completely hollow. I went to my room and just sat in silence, trying to understand why he was so mad at me, and I felt so ashamed of myself (a bitter side-effect of an a*****e upbringing). Then, after a few minutes he came charging up the stairs, barged into my room and said “get in the car, we’re going for a drive”.
In my 30 years of life, I have never ever, even come close to, being as scared of dying as I was when I sat in that car, waiting for my father to get in. He just started the car and started driving. I cannot describe it. I was so sure he was going to k**l me.
Turned out we were just going to see a house he thought of switching to. He even got mad at me for not asking where we were going.
I don’t talk to neither my father, brother or mother anymore.
Image source: KindlySwordfish, EyeEm/Freepik (not the actual photo)
#15
I have a cousin who I always knew was kind of crazy. We live in a major city and he never leaves his family’s apartment. He just stays in the apartment drawing and playing games. But even though he’s weird I didn’t really mind because he’s usually very sweet and wouldn’t hurt a fly (or so I thought).
When I was in college, I took him and my friend to see a concert. We got pretty drunk and when we came back we were hanging out in his living room. His parents were out of town. He started drawing in his little book and I asked to see it. Turns out he was drawing me sitting there. It was an extremely detailed and accurate drawing of me. I flipped through the book and found all sorts of cool creatures and landscapes, until I landed on… a drawing of his brother, dead and mutilated. An extremely detailed drawing. Turn the page, my dad, dead and mutilated. Turn the page, ME, dead and mutilated. Quietly, my cousin says “Ah, did you find the drawings of the family.”
I was in shock and disbelief. “What the f**k is this? Why the f**k would you draw our family like this??” He says something like “I think about it all the time. I think about k***ing you and the rest of them all the time.” My friend and I look at each other, frightened and silently planning on how we’re going to get out of there. Our shoes were off and our stuff was downstairs. He could see we were upset. He looked disappointed, like we were trying to upset him. “Are you scared?” And as he said that he moved to the kitchen. You had to go past the kitchen to get out of the apartment. I was really worried that he was going to get a knife and try to stab us or something. I said “Haha no, they’re really good, was just surprised at first. They’re really impressive though.” I had to basically placate him into thinking I was okay with the drawings so that he would let us leave.
He never did anything like this again, but he gets really weird and creepy whenever he drinks or smokes weed. I told my parents about what happened and they just kind of shrugged and said “Wow that’s weird.”.
Image source: defiantately, Freepik (not the actual photo)
#16
My dad has NPD, and is generally an emotionless a*****e. When I was in middle school I stepped on a stick in our yard and a piece broke off in my foot. My dad is a software engineer and used to go on site to build databases and help switch patient data to digital through the 80s, 90s, 00s. It gave him a real complex about not being a doctor and he stole tools and little pieces of equipment and would wear scrubs all of the time. It also meant he refused to take me to the ER for a super simple thing. He heated up a pair of medical scissors and cut the heel of my foot open while pretending to play doctor. At several times my mom opened the door to tell me to stop screaming so she could hear her phone conversation.
Image source: littlegray, Freepik (not the actual photo)
#17
Dad was a violent, alcoholic sociopath.
One time he threw me down the staircase, obviously didn’t k**l me but k***ed the child he didn’t know I was carrying.
Image source: ActualBoredHousewife, margonikolskaya/Freepik (not the actual photo)
#18
Posted this this morning in another thread:
I have suspicions that one of my inlaws has some psychopathic tendencies… Every so often he makes such weird remarks about hurting or k***ing animals. He told us he worked as a vet’s assistant and part of his job was castrating cats. I get it, it’s part of the job, but when he told about how he used to do that, he kinda came across like it was a magical moment for him.
A while ago he had some trouble with mice in his shed. But instead of buying regular animal friendly traps, he took a large, lidless carbage can, spilled a bunch of peanut butter on the bottom of it. Put up a ramp to the top and a thin, wooden stick across the opening at the top, so that the mice could cross the garbage can, so to speak. The mice would try to climb down to the peanut butter, fall in the can and would not be able to get out. Then he’d fill the can with water and watch a whole bunch of mice drown all at once.
He told me he would make traps and catch small birds when he was a kid. I asked him if he let the birds go after he caught them, but I didn’t get a clear answer on that one… I have a suspicious feeling that the birds didn’t live to flie another day…
He’s also into dead animal art, like some funky taxidermy. (Not like that gopher riding a snake, but two dead giraffe babies cut in half and sowed to eachother in the middle.)
He seriously gives my psycho-vibes.
Image source: Captain_Meekus, EyeEm/Freepik (not the actual photo)
#19
My aunt has two kids, both adopted, and all I know about their bio-moms is that they were d**g addicts. One of them (we’ll call her Jane) is my age, and we were always really close, but her older brother, “John,” never really hung around us to the point that I barely knew him even though I spent a ton of time at their house.
Anyway, when we were maybe 12, Jane, my sister, and I built a massive blanket fort in the basement and were hanging out in it. John was maybe 15 at the time and I don’t know why he originally came in, but for some reason he decided to “mess with us” – by taking a large kitchen knife and randomly stabbing into the fort. We were trying to crawl away but he could hear us and followed to whatever section we were in. I’m not sure if blindly stabbing at your relatives can ever really be playful, but this was not it. Jane was screaming at him to stop and my sister and I were crying. It was terrifying. Finally, my aunt heard us screaming and came down and yelled at him. John claimed it was just a joke, and said we were having fun.
He’s now in the middle of a 25 year prison sentence for murder.
Image source: anon, Media_photos/Freepik (not the actual photo)
#20
When I was 12, I disrespected his authority by performing what he deemed a gay act in his presence. Specifically, I played punch buggy. And I want you to bear in mind as you read this that I was never one of those a*****e kids who used it as an excuse to really hit someone. It was no more violent than tag. The reason he had a problem with it is because he took it as gay.
If you’d like to simulate what happened to me next, touch the base of your right thumb to your right shoulder,^1 then rotate your shoulder inwards until your wrist is against your neck. Now place your right elbow on top of your left shoulder. Now imagine someone is driving their elbow into your left shoulder with most of their weight behind it. And suppose that you’re in a car and wearing your seatbelt, so your feet are trapped, thus you have no free limbs to fight back with.
At first I thought that because he was my uncle, he wouldn’t do anything to seriously injure me. So when he asked if I understood that I would never be doing that again, I said no. I don’t like to tell blatant lies, and the truth was I had no intention of doing something or not doing something based on his judgement ever again: the moment he started choking/strangling a 12-year-old without so much as a warning, he *instantly* lost every ounce of respect I ever had for him.
I was wrong. He was no uncle of mine. He choked me harder and harder until I eventually noticed that I couldn’t see anymore—not enough oxygen was getting to my brain for that. It became clear that this was my last chance: I swear to respect him before the next time he tightened his hold, or I never see anything again. He was waiting for my affirmative submission, which I would be unable to provide if I lost consciousness. And so I lied in order to not die.
———–
^1 Actually your forearm should be totally flat against upper arm for a faithful simulation, but that involves bending the bone and I don’t want you to break your arm. It didn’t break my bones because I was young enough, but I don’t think an adult could do that safely.
Image source: anon
#21
Sorry for the formatting as I am on mobile. I have a distant cousin who I often see in major holidays and family reunions. He was always the hyper and eccentric type. Either he was super weird funny to be with or he can creep you out enough to excuse yourself from hanging with him. What my parents then didnt tell me was that he was heavily addicted to m**h which contributed to his crazy behaviors.
He often obsessed on local town girls, claiming that she is his GF or he is in the process of pursuing her and may have stalked a few girls.
Around that stage of his life, we the younger female relatives are not to be left alone with him.
Sadly all hopes of rehab failed on him, and he legit became mental by the time I was in college. And he was confined at his elderly moms home which is also conncted to my nieces house ( duplex).
I wasnt there when it happened but my niece had to barricade herself one time as he came for an attack. She wont tell me if it was an attempted sexual assualt but for sure he was intent to harm as he had a weapon. Good thing her dad, my other cousin, came in time. It was a huge mess and took several people holding down my nieces dad from trying not to k**l him.
Sadly that crazy cousin didnt last long. After a year, the toll of heavy d**g use affected his heart. He died in his sleep. His mom, brokenhearted followed suit a year later.
Image source: Sweetragnarok, pch.vector/Freepik (not the actual photo)
#22
When I was about 11 or 12, and my brother around 6 or 7, I was woken up one night by my mom jumping on/over me, like a flying tackle. I had a pedestal bed that had enough room between it and the wall for walkways on both sides, and she came out of there with my brother and an axe.
My brother and I had separate bedrooms, mine at the very end of the house and his just 5-10 ft from my door. Her bedroom was at the far end of the house. She had woken up suddenly and had the urge to check on us. When she got to his room first in the hallway, she saw his bed was empty. When she walked into mine he was standing over me, one foot on either side of my body, with the axe raised over his head. He was standing still and staring at me, like he was trying to decide if he was gonna do it. She sprinted in and tackled him off me before he could do it.
That was the first in a long line of insane incidents with him, and it’s been about 18 years since.
Image source: FUS_RO_DANK, amenic181/Envato (not the actual photo)
#23
To preface this, I have to share a bit of background. An aunt of mine had serious psychopath tendencies, coupled with depression and a few other things I’m sure. Anyways, she was cutting my uncles hair, who was going bald. He liked his hair cut short… but there to still be hair. Well she set the clippers a bit too low and shaved a massive chunk of his hair off. We are talking d**n near skin level. My uncle reacted how you would think, slightly pissed but just laughed it off. Well my aunt took offense to this, and decided to get the scissors out and *chop the ponytail off her own head* to try and make him feel better. She did this in front of me, in a different room than my uncle. Me not knowing what was going on started laughing. She went hysteric and started swinging and jabbing the scissors at me trying to get *my* hair (supposedly), till my uncle finally restrained her. Swear to god I thought I was one lucky jab by her from dying.
TLDR: Aunt messed up shaving my uncles head. She overreacted to her own mistake, and chopped her own hair off. I laughed. She lunged and jabbed at me with scissors.
Image source: bdubbs09, YuriArcursPeopleimages/Envato (not the actual photo)
#24
When I was younger, I was hanging out at my aunt’s house playing with my two cousins when they started to fight. We were home alone and the fighting got worse and worse until one of my cousins ran to the kitchen and came charging at us with a knife. He chased us around swinging at us until we were able to lock ourselves in the bathroom until my aunt came home. No one believed us.
Image source: CandyCaneDeepthroat, tommyandone/Envato (not the actual photo)
#25
I have/had a very charismatic friend. People joked about him being in love with me, because he just singed high praises about me. I admit there was a bit of a fixation but he was a cool dude, even if you couldn’t count on him or his word. He’d say he’d be somewhere, and most often wasn’t (on purpose – he rather not confront or deal with people trying to convince him to come). He was a compulsive liar but it took me a long time to realize it, I just though he didn’t like saying no.
He confessed long ago in a group setting that he experimented with k***ling household pets (some sort of rodents his family kept), including microwaving one. My then gf said shocked “That’s how psychopaths start”. He played it off as stuff kids do, I don’t think he really saw a problem in that (at least until he was called on it, otherwise he wouldn’t have brought it up). Another story was how he ordered his 4 or 5 trained rottweilers to attack a few kittens that had hidden beneath his grass mowing tractor. He said he just wanted to scare them so he could turn on the tractor, but when the kitties ran away the dogs caught them and turned them to shreds. He said it wasn’t his intention.
A few years ago, we are all on a motorcycle road trip. Both of us get detached from the group speeding for a bit, and then park on a gas station to refuel or wait for them (very fuzzy memories). He tells me he wants to record me (he had a helmet GoPro), and he’ll signal me when he wants me to overtake the group and take the lead.
We see the group go by us, we speed up and catch them, he signals to me, I overtake his dad, and the bike just… sort of skids in a straight line. I loved riding on rainy days, it was not like I was short on experience losing traction momentarily, but it was a very sunny day. I don’t recall what went through my head, but the video shows my bike just sort of sliding from under me.
My arm gets caught in the railing and ripped off right then and there. My friend almost hits me and my bike because he was right behind me. My whole body is left in a quite bad shape. Everyone gives me first aid, and as you can imagine it was a very shocking experience to us all. Handling an amputated limb, being forced to deal with the possibility of death, and confronted with the risks of our hobby. We all got scarred one way or another. I lost an arm, some of them stopped riding, and my friend sold his K1200R, eventually buying a slower 1200GS.
He started drinking. He started taking recreational d***s. More than one friend in common tells me when the night is long enough, he might voice his regret in uncertain terms about my accident. He has avoided me since.
I recall him checking my bike very up close. I think it was the day of the accident but I’m not 100% sure. I recall him saying he’ll pay for my gas, but not to top it off. We were still far away from home, so I told him, nah I’ll pay it, and our tanks just take enough gas for like 250 kms, I’ll top it off, otherwise I’ll have to stop in 100kms again. I topped it off and he still paid for it. When I go to pay they told me it was taken care of. I’m walking back, and that’s when I see him crouching near my bike (possibly the front tire). I ask him what’s wrong, and he tells me he is just checking it out.
I mean there is no way to know. There are many things that lead me to think it wasn’t caused by him. He was recording me from behind me, so causing a wreck on purpose would be weird as it’d endanger him, his father, and everyone else. He wasn’t positioned for prime wreck filming, and quite the contrary he had to dodge both my tumbling body and my flying motorbike. He says when drunk he shouldn’t have, but he might just feel guilty just for suggesting I take the lead, and being the butterfly flutter that led to that hurricane. Everyone was changed by that experience after all. It was traumatic stuff.
On the other hand there are little details that rouse my suspicion. In the day of the ride, he uninvited 2 girls that’d be coming as our pillions. He always did stuff like this so it wasn’t out of character. Saying he’ll pay for my gas, but not to top it off, is just weird in a bike. He paid for my lunch that day. Heck he took me (and my girl) to Germany, all expenses paid before. I feel kind of guilty even thinking he might have done something so nefarious…
He still hits me up every now and then via messages. Once he wanted me to hack someone’s account (said not possible), another time he wanted 40 or 50 bucks (I said sorry I’m broke), and a third time he just showed me a photo of my father’s internet contract (he was working for them in the call center, I didn’t even reply because why the f**k would he even show me that?).
Image source: CyberClawX, Anna_Om/Envato (not the actual photo)
#26
Had an ex look at me intently and say “I don’t understand why I can’t destroy you. I’ve tried everything and it usually works but you’re still here”. Then he fought and prolonged the divorce for years because he “enjoyed watching people suffer”. Convinced a few people for a while that I was the sick one, then his facade dropped. Too bad for him that the rest of us are actual sentient beings and he’s not as powerful or intelligent as his deluded chaos of a brain told him he was.
Image source: MamaBear4485, ASphotostudio/Envato (not the actual photo)
#27
I’m shocked by all these stories of psychopath children’s and the adults letting their kids be around them even after one incident.
When I was about 4 my cousin tried sticking a stick up my a*s he literally lifted me off the ground with the stick and it only stopped with my screams and my dad ran outside. I was never around my cousin again I never saw him again, he would have been 6 at the time and at 23 he died of a h****n o******e after getting out of prison.
Image source: anon, doralinsamuel/Envato (not the actual photo)
#28
At a club with my cousin who I hadn’t seen since he was little (all the cousins were in town for a family reunion), he says to me “do you ever imagine what it would be like if you gave everyone bleach instead of whatever they’re drinking”?
I excused myself with a non-committal “hmmm” and made sure not to eat or drink anything he gave me the rest of the time we were there.
Image source: EquivocalWall, Image-Source/Envato (not the actual photo)
#29
My older brother cut off a Rabbits head and hid it in the cupboard shelf in the barn as a joke. It was where we stored the cat food for the barn cats so he knew we would find it.
He also tried to down me in a pool I got for my birthday. He held me underwater until I sucked water in and I puked. His punishment was he had to drain the pool and wash it out. F**k my parents. They should have gotten him help but instead they thought he would grow out of it. There was 5 year age gap between us so he tormented myself and my younger brother.
Image source: zero573
#30
Two years ago I was looking for an apartment o stay during my summer job when a friend said that a guy which we both knew from college was looking for a roommate. We got in touch, apartment was great, landlord was cool, and he was okay first few days. Then he started to talk about his depression, anxiety, paranoia etc. He would ask if we could go for a coffee outside, and then few minutes later quit, he told me on few occasions that he thinks someone is following him. One night I got wasted after work and came home a bit later than usually, and there he was standing in the middle of the room, eyes glazing nowhere in particular, and told him to snap out, which he did. That was the moment I decided to look for another apartment. But few days later some strange feeling in my dream woke me up, I just knew something is wrong. As I turned in bed, away from the wall, I saw him standing near my bed, staring in me, like he saw a ghost. That was moment I realized I needed to get the f**k outta there. I contacted my old employer 7:30 AM, which gave me accomodation and food but for far less salary. But hey, still alive and well.
And the guy is now in institution, since he at last attacked some guy in the street asking him to stop following him. Luckily guy has beaten his a*s and called the cops. At that time there were rumours about someone stalking in the city park, and walking through people’s backyards which also stoped when he disappeared.
Image source: anon, jonnyslim/Envato (not the actual photo)
#31
A little late to the party, but my younger step-brother suffered from a host of mental issues, most visibly conduct disorder for those in the know, related to neglect from his time with his birth mother. Despite my parents every (and I mean EVERY) attempt to get him psychological help, nothing seemed to work. Tough to know where to begin with describing childhood with him. He would initiate constant arguments over the smallest of things, occasionally reaching the point of violence. Most of this violence was ultimately harmless (hitting walls, etc), but it got more dangerous towards others as he got older.
On a personal basis, our relationship was fine; I was his favorite brother and, due to his smaller size, never felt truly unsafe. That is, until he discovered weapons. One time my parents found him hiding a large knife from the kitchen block under his bed. When he was confronted, he flew into a rage, a 5′ tornado of screams and fists. Despite his small stature, he was a powerful kid once he got into a rage, and it took myself and our other brothers to subdue him. It’s tough to remember if any death threats were specifically thrown during this breakdown. Regardless, the threat was implied by previous death threats to members of the family. What made it real was that it was the first time I’d seen him truly begin such a lethal plan. Our bedrooms were right next to each other and my locks didn’t work, so I quickly learned how to sleep with one eye open. Things got better and worse throughout high school, but I never became comfortable sleep in the same house as him. We had a tough relationship for a long time while I was away, with my selfishly ignoring him and the problems I left at home when I left for college.
But the story does have a happy ending. My brother lived with some other family members for a period of time, and eventually went out on his own at an extremely young age. He had a couple of tough years, refusing to contact home and ask for help. Somehow, he overcame his cognitive shortcomings on his own and found a service job in a major city that provides him a steady income, as well as a serious girlfriend. He has reached back out to our family, and we now have a pretty good relationship that’s moved beyond our past.
Image source: ldg25
#32
My best friend got really drunk and convinced all of us at a party that if we sleep, he was going to chow one of our shins. He later went on that he will eat a beating human heart. We had mushrooms that night by the way.
Image source: shyzzs, itchaznong/Envato (not the actual photo)
#33
I think a lot of people should look into what a psychopath us. Antisocial personality disorder is something affecting 3 to 4 percent. They are not all k***ers or even particularly malicious. But they are not good to have in your life. When you finally see beneath the mask of a psychopath and realise they have no empathy and will tell any lie and manipulate anyone on a whim, even blood relatives it ,shocks you to the core.
Image source: Udderakount
#34
My mom accused me of sleeping with my boyfriend in her bed because her pillow was ruffled????!!! So she kept calling me a s**t- getting closer and closer until she had me in a corner. She started choking me, and laughing hysterically- calling me a s**t b***h and all sorts of other colorful names a mother should call her daughter. My brother tackled her to the ground and we all left for a couple nights.
She still swears it never happened.
Image source: operachick209
#35
My mother is mentally unstable and has had many moments which led me to cut contact off with her.
You know she is getting extra weird and dangerous when her eyes glaze over and sort of…look like they lose any flicker of sentience or intelligence? It’s hard to explain. Her eyes become like that of a shark.
Her voice too will lose all emotion and vocal variance and becomes deep and raspy.
She went like this once while I was washing laundry in the basement while she oversaw me and she went from her normal angry, screaming self to very quiet.
I turned to her and she said in her unearthly, raspy voice “You know I could k**l you, just hang you from a pipe down here and no one would find your body”
Then she laughed and resumed her normal voice telling me cheerily that I was a loser because I didn’t separate the light orange shirts from the dark orange shirts properly.
Image source: nocontactnotpossible
#36
My little brother would set things on fire in the house and hid knives under my bed. I literally thought he was planning to k**l me. The worst part is when I told my mom about it she would tell me “all boys his age do this” like really?
Image source: ItsPronouncedShy
#37
My mother is a narcissist. I had chicken pocks really bad when I was six. To the point that they were in my eyes and v****a. My parents neighbor had to convince my mother to take me to the hospital. I almost died. Thanks Mom.
Image source: AllLinesDown
#38
So.. my older sister. There are a thousand stories. One I’ll always remember is when she had a poker in the fire and held it in front of me, it was glowing red. I was really young. She told me to grab it, and said “it’s not hot, if it were hot it would be white.” Yeah, I grabbed it.
Anyway, what really got me was that after she died (massive brain explosion of some kind), my mom took me aside. She was very shaken by my sister’s death. She loved her very much and took care of her for my sister’s whole life. She told me that she was confused now, and didn’t know what to do, because she always assumed that my sister would k**l her.
Image source: TwstdSail
#39
I was away in another city but this was what my baby bro told me.
So my parents were watching after a nephew from Mexico for about a week. He was about 10 years old and whenever my 14 year old baby bro or my mom would tease him about being “super macho” he would threaten to k**l our cat. My mom would just tell him not to say that and to stop thinking like an idiot. My brother kept an eye on him. The day before the last day, my mom told her nephew to go shower because he stink. “F**k you he said” and grabbed our cat and threw him at my mom. My parents said all they saw was my brother getting up from the couch and slugged him across the face, dragged his a*s to the bathroom, threw him in the shower, and told him to take a bath with a toaster. That night, that little psycho came into my brother room and was rummaging through my bro’s knife collection. Here is where it kinda gets comical. My brother SLEEPS with his wood chopping hatchet. So when my bro heard s**t in his room, he woke up with his hatchet in hand ready to attack. Parents rushed in to see what the commotion was all about.
Apparently he was trying to find my brother’s skinning knife to k**l our cat. He had that knife pointed at my brother. No one slept that night. My parents told his grandparents that he needs help, but typical Mexican grandparent: “he just needs to find Jesus and pray”.
THE F****R IS 10 YEARS OLD.
Note: my brother likes Russian stuff, seizing the means of production, and everything history and outdoors related. I’ve never seen him actively hurt an animal, and will go outside to chase the coyotes away when they get close to our dogs and property (out cat is indoors). He collects knifes with designs on their handles for the aesthetics of it but has his own “cool” knifes.
Image source: anon
#40
Sister-in-law (wife’s sister) was k***ed by her estranged husband, who then k***ed himself. In the weeks leading up to his final acts, we found evidence that he was outside our house at night, including leaving (x-rated) pictures on our front porch of him and my wife’s sister taken years earlier. He wanted us to know he was around/also besmirch his wife’s rep maybe. Not sure what was going on in his mind. Also beer bottles, cig butts in the yard. So he was sitting out there for extended periods of time. Filed a police report/they could do nothing. Months after her death, we learned he had his older son (7 at the time—he and his little brother would have sleep overs at our house, my kids were same age. Wife’s sister would also occasionally take refuge at our home) draw a map of the inside of our house, including bedrooms/who slept where. He was making plans apparently. F****d up times (summer of 2001). Family is still kind of f****d up, difficult to fully recover/lots of counseling. His f*****g reach has extended way beyond the grave.
Image source: Agonda12
#41
I wish aggression toward animals was taken MUCH more seriously. Not only is it cruel in itself, but to be able to harm/k**l a defenseless/weaker animal for no purpose but joy/entertainment is a HUGE sign of not having empathy (which often leads to serial k***ers).
Image source: anonymice3
#42
My old step son tried to k**l both my sons. Long story short he had been k***ing animals since he was 2 or 3 and his dad refused to get him help. Well my oldest son we found out at 4 he was alergic to bees. So my step son would try to push him into bees “because he wanted to watch what happen when he chokes and died (he was a year older than my 4yo) and when I had my baby with his dad he would always try to push his soft spot. I explained that would k**l him and his answer was “well I want to feel his brains so if he dies it’s okay I’ll just see him in heaven…. Between this and s**t with his dad I asked for a divorce shortly after son was born and he 100% abandoned my sons and I which I think is for the best p. S. There’s way more stories.
Image source: isingtomyducky
#43
I was at church one night, and this guy we’d never seen before decided to come in for the service. According to the pastor, this guy watched me all night long, wouldn’t take his eyes off me. I don’t know why, I’m not even pretty. Towards the end of service I went to the bathroom and he followed me. My uncle managed to see him and escorted him out, then later told me the dude had a knife. Not quite sure what he was planning to do, but grown men don’t generally follow 16-year-old girls into church bathrooms with weapons if they have good intentions.
Edit: if you’d like more details, I wrote about it on LNM. It should be the first post in my history. I’d fetch a link but I’m on mobile.
Image source: JojoHendrix
#44
A pretty short story.
I worked at a local grocery store and one of the guys nine years my senior and I has become now and then friends. We would talk about anime, or whatever. He was friends with my friend Stephanie, too.
I quit that job when I got a better offer closer to home. He started showing up there daily to buy candy and talk to me. I was well out of his way, and he had never been to that store before I worked there. I was genuinely scared because this guy had meltdowns and often quit and returned to his job, and lived his life as if everyone should have revolved around him. Very much the anime protagonist. Women were supposed to be in awe of him. Men were supposed to be jealous. The whole nine yards. Running like he’s from Naruto… He was a living breathing dumpster fire.
I got a boyfriend in the midst of this. And this is where things got weird. He started showing up more than once a day, still buying things. It was as if he was checking on me. The closer we got to a trip we all had planned downstate, the more I worried. So I told my boyfriend I wanted to ride separately rather than all together.
He agreed, and shortly after my friend contacted me saying it may have been for the better. The guy kept saying while they shared a break at work that he would stab us with whatever was sharp in the car if we were remotely affectionate to each other, and he wanted to k**l my boyfriend at the convention, hurting me, tying me up and making me watch him do it. Said I shouldn’t be dating someone nine years my senior (I was 21, boyfriend was 30) even though he was the same age as my boyfriend. I should have been his. He would make me his, etc.
When he actually saw my boyfriend, he chickened out and ghosted the entire time we were at the convention. I never left my boyfriend’s side. I didn’t want to be alone and targeted. I didn’t want my boyfriend to be targeted either. He left me alone after that. Just disappeared. My friendship with my friend who warned me ended not long after that, either… I have always wondered if she had something to do with orchestrating it all.
Image source: seraph_hollow
#45
I have this cousin that i grew up with who is absolutely crazy, i would have to say the creepiest/scariest time was when i was outside on the steps at his house and he was outside shooting off his gun. I remember I was petting the cat and he was shooting at birds then all of a sudden he turned and we made eye contact and he aimed the gun towards me and shot me in the leg, the look that he had in is eye was absolutely insane, his excuse was he was aiming for the cat.
Image source: wanderlustx011
#46
Not related to, but best friends with (M). We were friends from age 3 until around 8th grade, when we finally drifted apart and stopped hanging out. He went to a Catholic school and I went to public, so we only saw each other outside of school. He lived across the street, so we hung out every day.
He would do mean things to me all the time. He’d break my stuff, hurt me, and get me blamed for things he did. He dropped a big rock on my first (K-Mart knockoff) G I Joe and broke his leg off, just because. He shot me in the nuts with a homemade crossbow. He broke my pedal motorcycle. On and on and on.
Around 9th grade, he started hanging around with the burnouts. One of them, who lived a block away, ended up raping and murdering two girls, 12 and 13. I think (M) looked up to that.
a few years later, his family had moved to Washington to be with his older sister, and to get him away from the d**g crowd he was involved in. He’d been arrested for possession a bunch of times, but his parents’ lawyer always got him off.
Finally, he had a deal go bad, so he drove from Washington back to Pennsylvania to confront the guy. (M) broke into the guy’s house and stabbed him in the heart. (My dad was the first EMT on-scene, and watched the guy die in his arms.)
He’s still in jail, but is due for release soon. I think he only got 22 years. He should probably just stay in, for everyone’s benefit.
Image source: Phantom_Scarecrow
#47
Not psychopath, but violent schizophrenic. There were lots of times; he went stabbing the walls when I had a friend sleeping over and we were in the living room, he tapped the tent with the knife a few times.
I woke up to him staring at me sleeping a lot.
Days he’d scream insults, threats, etc while pent up in his room.
He tried to shove me down the stairs, grabbed my neck and threw me against the oven when I managed to resist. I broke away and ran up to my dad’s room because it locked and I knew my dad was in his shower. Held a sword (yes an actual f*****g sword) to my throat and began to cut before suddenly stopping.
A lot of times he would talk to himself, saying he didn’t want to hurt my sister because he liked her, or he couldn’t burn the house down. Etc etc. I’m also pretty sure he was abusing my dog.
He lives away from home now. My mom wonders why I don’t want to go see him ever. He is on meds but I get nauseous when I see him.
EDIT: my older brother is the schizophrenic. My dad and oldest brother usually tried to stick around so I was never home alone with him, but he started to get violent towards me even when they were. Hence the whole “running to my dad’s room to lock myself in”. My mother was the only one not home during that incident.
Also wanted to note that because we knew of his d**g use and weren’t very knowledgeable we had no idea what was going on, we thought he was just really high all the time. He wouldn’t go to rehab, and even after hospital visits and meds started there were relapses that were horrifying to witness.
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#48
My mother once tackled me to the ground and pressed a pair of scissors to my throat, threatening to slash it open, because I didn’t turn on the porch light *before* I saw her car pulling up the hill to our house.
Image source: IsabellaGalavant
#49
This is my alt so here goes nothing. I have several but the worst one I didn’t know about til later. My (now disowned) brother was always mentally f****d and nothing helped him. Meds, therapists, nothing. He used to break into my room and watch me sleep. Most my memory of him is mostly gone so idk exactly all the f****d up s**t he did because we try not to talk about him since it’s a big trigger for the PTSD he helped create. Anyway, he used to threaten me all the time. When I was about 10 he made those usual threats and I just ignored it and locked my door that night (this was before we knew he was going into my room). Nothing new there. Well, years later when I’m diagnosed with PTSD my mom recounts this specific time where she found out what he was doing at far as going into my room. She went through his room the next day when he was at school and found a few of their big cooking knives hidden in his room along with several of the keys that opened our room doors and some f****d up incest stories he wrote. Part of me is pretty sure he did m****t me in my childhood but another part denies it and says it never happened. I don’t know what is true and I don’t know if I ever will. All I know is he’s out of my life and hopefully will stay that way.
Image source: CaptainSoft
#50
My kids asked their cousin what kind of movies he likes to watch. He replied horror movies, and when they asked what he could possibly enjoy about them, he said he feels calm when he sees people being m******d and blood everywhere.
Same kid: for some reason he grabbed a pigeon and literally tore it to pieces with his bare hands and was completely nonplussed at the amount of blood on him (see above)
Last but not least, I took them swimming and he asked if they’d be mad at him if he drowned one of them or what would happen if he k***ed them. (Claims it was a joke )
Problem is that his mother abandoned him when he was 8 and he has autism so everyone explains away his behavior.
I’ve recently begun taking him to a psychologist- so here’s hoping!
Image source: Help4helping
#51
I’m too late, as usual.
My younger brother is a psychopath. I knew something wasn’t normal but it wasn’t until I escaped to college that I realized how f****d up my childhood was. It isn’t normal for a 7 year old to lift a 40lb cat toy and try to smash your head in. Nor is it normal for a 5 year old to throw a heavy pan or sharp knives at you.
My childhood was like a war zone. I cut off ties with him about 10 years ago when he was 14 and tried to murder my father.
That’s kind of minor honestly. A psychopath has no conscience. They do what feels good and manipulate people around them to get what they want. It is only the people they are around 24/7 who get to see their true colors. Every time my brother was in a group home, he’d be this angelic wonderful child who everyone loved. After about 4 months though, he’d realize they weren’t bending to his will and he’d show his true colors, becoming a violent and destructive hellion.
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#52
My older cousin tried to drown 7-year-old me in a kiddie pool and almost succeeded. I don’t mean he dunked me underwater as a prank. I mean he forced me to kneel beside the pool and used his considerable size advantage to hold my head underwater until I started to faint. He only stopped when my sister happened to come by. He did it to her later that day. She was 2 at the time.
Apparently he is “better now” and I’m “being unfair” for making it clear that I never want to see him again.
Image source: schofelig
#53
For context, I wasn’t worried my dad would murder me, but my mom.
I grew up with an a*****e father. It’s tricky, because when I was younger (10 and earlier) everything was fine. I’m the youngest of the bunch – an brother 4 years older and a sister 2 years older. We didn’t have expendable income growing up, but we weren’t poor. When I was around 11 or so, we started having more money since my mom started working again, and that’s when a lot of the problems with my dad started.
At first he was just mean to my mom. Not overly a*****e or anything, but they would argue a lot. As time went on, he became more aggressive towards everyone, but in an irritated way, not so much aggressive. We moved when I was 14 after we sold our old house for a lot of money, a lot of which my dad used to become an alcoholic.
One night my dad had a bit too much to drink and came downstairs to yell at me about something (I was 16 at the time). I told him to leave me alone and closed my door. He didn’t like that, whipped the door back open and continued yelling. I yelled back, he punched me, I fought back and punched him back a few times. He pushed me into my bedroom door, which was a glass-paneled door (we used blinds for privacy) and my face hit one of the small panels and broke it. It left a tiny scar, nothing big. He tried to apologize, offer to take me to the hospital, etc. I told him to f**k off, cleaned myself off and continued on with my night.
Fast-forward 3 years, I was in university and moved back home for a few reasons. On my dad’s bday, he was upset because apparently not enough people wished him happy bday (literally all of us did, and his brothers who called, and his mom, so idk, drunk people are morons). He was sulking around all day, driving drunk when he wasn’t at home, then at 2am the following day, I heard him and my mom yelling. I saw him hit her and went full ape-s**t mode on him. You don’t hit a woman and you certainly never hit my mom. Me and him fought, but it’s pretty easy to fight a drunk, and it ultimately ended with him being thrown down a flight of stairs and me locking my mom in my room until the cops arrived with me playing warden over my dad.
My mom told the cops and myself that, if I wasn’t home, she’s certain he would have k***ed her. He’s crazy and needs help. Personally, I don’t care, he could drop dead tomorrow and I’d be A-Okay with it. Needless to say, my parents got divorced, my dad’s a total piece of s**t who’s not allowed to drive anymore because of more stupid s**t he did after the fact, and my mom and I are closer than ever. And she and my wife get along super well, so that’s good!
Image source: MrProtomonk
#54
One of my cousins was extremely violent, screamed a lot, and cried often. We lived in Texas at the time. Most of my family didn’t do much to help her except take her to church (idk how that is supposed to help but I digress). I woke up one day when we were at a family reunion in Austin and everyone else was asleep. I went to the bathroom and passed a knife sticking out of the wall. I got a little spooked. My cousin had stabbed knifes into the walls all over the house. We moved away and didn’t keep in contact. The last I’ve heard there hasn’t been much help she’s received and the family refuses to accept that she may have some sort of personality disorder. She’s 23 now and still lives at home, most of the friends she has had I know have gotten spooked and left. Kinda sad really.
Image source: unamusedmagickarp
#55
My great aunt was an accessory in her own sons murder. We will call her Stacy, was married to a man who we will call Bob. Stacy has an extremely addictive personality and will do anything to get a fix. Let this be said that Stacy has been diagnosed as having several personality disorders (its important in this instance).
Anywho, Bob and Stacy end up with m**h and gambling addictions in the mid 2000’s. Stealing and scamming galore. They even used my dead great grandfathers social security number to amass a large amount of debt. As well as my other great aunt and her dead husband. Well, they ended up screwing over the wrong guy. This guy mistakenly takes out Stacy’s son Bob instead of her husband Bob. Well, maybe not so mistakenly, I’m not sure because the trial is still underway. Well, Stacy is still majorly screwed up about her sons death to this day.
In January of this year, Stacy gets a hold of my grandmother and my great uncle begging to come visit for the first time in 20+ years. Grandma says no, as we have a full house and money issues. My great uncle, Francis, doesn’t say no, so here comes Stacy! I had never met her in my memory (I was an infant and I currently have memory issues), so I was a bit excited and offered her a ride if she needs one during her stay. Unknown to me, Stacy tried to k**l herself on a 6 lane highway while on methadone. She was put into emergency s*****e lock down and could only leave if she had a house to go to. And Stacy is a proud homeless B***h (in her own words).
Big. Mistake.
Hurricane Stacy rolls into town, and within two days she is conning my grandma into staying with us. Its my grandparents, my 3 year old son, and I in the house. We also have 3 small dogs, 3 turtles, and a cat, so the house is pretty full. I go and get her so I can deliver my promise. This crazy broad hugged me so hard that I legit could not breathe for over 30 seconds. Being confined gives me panic attacks, so it wasn’t going well from the very start. Francis (pretty harmless for the most part, just a lonely old alcoholic pothead), isn’t even able to greet me over her squeals.
She tells me to sit down and wait just a minute. I’m starting to get a bit annoyed, I still had some errands to do and I’m not a fan of driving on back country roads at night. She sits down, opens a pack of cigarettes, and pulls out a joint. Now, I am a live and let live person, but I’m pregnant so I’m not really down for that. Francis mouths out “Help me!” While Stacy’s head is turned. We finally get on the road and Stacy was physically slapping my shoulder and arm and blaring my s****y sound system in my jeep. I pulled over and had a serious talk with her about her actions (I’m stupidly careful when I drive).
The next two days go just as well as the first meeting. She was never left alone, thankfully. By the end of day two, everybody is stressed and the tension in the air could be cut with a plastic spoon. When I got home from work, my perfectly parroting son, was running around screaming “F*****g useless a****t alcoholics!” We all agree Stacy needs to go back to my uncle’s house.
Fast forward to 4 days later, my grandmother gets a very pissed off voicemail from Francis. Stacy had pushed him down and hurt him. She bloodied up his stump (one handed from a machinery accident) and hella bruised his shoulder. Ahh f**k. Cops were called, the whole 9. Stacy came to stay with us to cool off. My grandparents both went to get their taxes done, and I was left alone with this lady for the first time ever.
Stacy went into a rant about my grandma as soon as the car doors closed. Calling her a b***h and evil for saying that Stacy needs mental help. Anndd I was pissed. I kept my cool enough to tell her to calm down and stop yelling, my son was trying to nap. She got in my fave and started screaming at me. Nope. I blanked and completely disengaged from her. I turned on a movie on Netflix (Sing, its great for kids) and told her to shut the f**k up and sit the f**k down. My tone apparently shocked her into listening and getting out of my face. The woman never moved druing the entire course of the movie! It was great! And somehow, it had managed to subdue her for her whole stay. It was quite plesent when she wasn’t jumping from ecstatic to horribly depressed to maniacally laughting every 5 minutes.
Three weeks of this crazy goes by like molasses in February, each day is worse than the last. On this fateful afternoon, Stacy screws up, big time. She messages my grandma about buying m**h over facebook. Later that night, cops were called again. Stacy called them and claimed that Francis was abusing her. He was drunk and said some hurtful things, but Stacy wouldn’t walk away and leave him alone. She was still screaming in his face when the cops arrived. This time, they took Stacy and put her in a local shelter. Annnddd Stacy took her d***s.
Truth comes out to the authorities (because she did d***s in the camera supervised shelter), and Stacy finally got locked in a mental hospital where she still is. With all the proof they found on social media, they are legally able to keep her in the Ward indefinitely. She is a danger to herself and others, and I couldn’t be happier. In my opinion, it was about 40 years late, honestly.
Image source: brunetteTink
#56
She wasn’t a psychopath, but my ex-wife definitely had some kind if personality disorder. She was manipulative, physically and mentally a*****e, controlling, and contributed very little. She liked to pinch and bite and hit me because she said it made her feel better. My protests meant nothing. One time she pinched me so hard she made me bleed and I still have a scar on my arm from it 2 years later. Like a visible scar. From pinching. With her f*****g fingers. I didn’t know that was possible.
One time in the midst of a fight that she started (literally every fight) I told her I had enough and I was going to bed (it was like 2 AM) and she alluded that she was going to murder me in my sleep. I asked for clarification and she doubled down into a full blown threat.
One time in another fight, she grabbed a butcher knife from the kitchen drawer and slammed the blade edge into the counter top and then pointed it at me. She also throw all the furniture around, pulled the mattress off the bed, through a glass of water at my face (which thankfully was plastic).
Just lots of violence towards me and threats of s*****e if I left. The usual borderline personality b******t. She had me to the point where I tried to k**l myself, everyday I wanted to die, I wanted her to s*****e, I legit thought about k***ing her. I finally left her a*s a few months ago. I packed up my s**t and moved to a different state. I actually thought to myself I needed to get out because one of us was going to die. It’s really f*****g scary when someone a**ses you so much that you start to think about k***ing them before they k**l you. I’m proud to say that I never once hit her, even though I really wanted to. It’s kinda like my last f**k you to her. That I never stooped to her level. I’m better than her.
Anyway, so I literally had to flee and leave my life behind. It’s been over 3 months and I’m still all f****d up over it mentally. I still think about wanting to die a lot. She broke me completely and it’s going to take a lot to come back from but I’ll be damned if I let her win now.
Image source: MaximumCameage
#57
My cousin, though I think he would be considered more of a sociopath than a psychopath. We were best friends as kids, but he lived in Virginia and I lived in PA so we only saw each other over the summer. I noticed one year he was much more aggressive than usual and everything, absolutely *everything*, became a competition. Who could run faster, who could do more push-ups, who could spin in a circle faster, anything. And God forbid if he lost, he would accuse me of cheating somehow and often get violent. One time he pushed me off the top of a sliding board because I outran him to it.
Well, years later, I found out most of his aggression came from his stepfather, who ingrained into him and his stepbrother that everything in life was about competition and playing in every sport was essential. Also, his mother decided that she wasn’t interested in disciplining her kids, she’d rather her kids be her friends instead. As long as he respected *her*, it didn’t matter what trouble he got into, no matter who he beat up or stole from, she was always there to bail him out and always told him that *he* was the victim.
Years later, he got into all kinds of trouble; he choked out a random 8-year-old boy on the street for “disrespecting” him (he was around 16 at the time), stole medication from his 10-year-old cousin, and finally got busted selling pot to an undercover cop (fake pot at that). He also had an unregistered gun on him at the time.
So now he’s a convicted felon who relies on others to provide for him, usually his (very) dumb girlfriends. Last I heard from him he started a go-fund-me when his house burned down. I later found out that, despite his claims to have “found God” and cleaned up his act, all the money donated went to his d**g habit as he became pretty addicted to pain k***ers and now spends his days popping pills while his girlfriend begs everyone she can for money. I never quite felt like he would murder me growing up, but I definitely feel that he’s going to be the cause for someone’s death someday (besides his own).
Image source: Everything80sFan
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