Siblings of Sociopaths or Narcissists, when did you realize your sibling wasn't normal?

Siblings of Sociopaths or Narcissists, when did you realize your sibling wasn't normal?

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Siblings of sociopaths are narcissists. When did you realize your
sibling wasn't normal? Story one my oldest sister. I'm the
youngest of three girls, and we grew up fairly poor,
so both parents were out of the home a lot,
working to give us the basics. Because of this, my
oldest sister looked after us. My earliest memories involved me

(00:21):
running through the kitchen in a diaper, feeling so scared
trying to get away from her. Anything and everything set
her off. If attention was not one hundred percent on her,
she would flip out, scratching, kicking, hair pulling. My parents
were pretty oblivious to all this, or rather my dad
was also unstable BPD and frequently off medication, and my

(00:44):
mom was too emotionally mistreated to do anything to help.
She had to have presents on everyone else's birthday and
had to have the same or better presence than everyone
else on Christmas. As I was four years younger, I
was much smaller than her and easy to catch. From
my toddler years to sixteen, I had crescent scars all
over my arms and ankles because she would dig her

(01:06):
nails into my skin, drawing blood. The very first time
it clicked in my head that no one would ever
help and she could manipulate her way out of everything
was when she stabbed me in the shoulder with a pen.
I was about eight years old. She had yanked out
a chunk of my hair, so I told her to
get away from me. The look on her face was

(01:26):
horrifying because she looked so happy. My dad had been
sleeping and woke up to me saying something he considered unacceptable.
She knew I was going to be in trouble, so
she grabbed the pen off the table, stabbed me, and
then yanked it back out. I ran upstairs to get
away from my dad, which was a whole different, frightening experience,

(01:47):
and he wouldn't believe she had hurt me. I came
downstairs a few hours later when he allowed it, with
blood all over my shirt. My aunt was staying with
us and saw it, pointed it out to my dad,
and they still be my sister hadn't done it. I
gave up all hope for help after that. That turned
into eight years of her scarring any exposed skin, pulling

(02:09):
out my hair, cornering me and screaming about how awful.
I was taking every moment to remind me I was overweight.
She had struggled with anorexia and bolimia most of her
teens in adult life, throwing things at me, telling me
men would only like me for the wrong reasons and more.
I am more of an extrovert than most of my family,

(02:30):
so I always had a lot of friends and boyfriends
in elementary school, and then actual boyfriends in high school.
When she went away to university, my mother thought it
would be a great idea for me to visit her
there a whole weekend being alone in her dorm with her.
She spent the first day reminding me how awful I was,
then acted nice until the evening. She wanted me to

(02:50):
watch West Side Story. I think it's the one with
the opening scene of two groups snapping their fingers down
the street. Me, being sixteen, thought it was funny, so
I laughed wrong move. She started screaming throughout all the food,
cornered me and told me no one in my life
actually liked me. I would only ever be in unhealthy relationships.

(03:12):
I didn't deserve better. I would always be disgusting and
so on. Then she kicked me out and made our
mother pick me up a day early midyear. She was
home and in a rare moment of civility, she wanted
to talk. She asked me how you're supposed to feel
sorry for other people, as in, how do you feel empathy?
She said she couldn't figure it out when her professors

(03:34):
talked about it. I carefully got out of that conversation.
Later that day, after her usual you're awful rant, I
decided to turn my back on her and not engage.
She picked up a textbook and hit me as hard
as she could over the head with it, yanked me
by the back of my head, and pushed me into
the cupboards, telling me you're not allowed to ignore me.

(03:54):
I have not spoken to her since that day. I'm
now twenty six and she's thirty, still living off my mother,
and has no social skills. The last time I saw her,
she had drunk a bottle of wine on Christmas Eve
of twenty eleven and just lay on the living room
floor the whole day. She's pulled a knife on our
other sister, been evicted for damaging apartments in my mother's name,

(04:15):
had many pets die under questionable circumstances, expects constant gifts
and attention, gets angry if family pay more attention to
children than to her. Still calls our mother mummy in
a high pitched voice, cannot maintain friendships, has never had
a romantic relationship, and still resents me for being able
to have relationships. I wouldn't be surprised if she seriously

(04:39):
harmed someone one day. She is the spitting image of
our father in personality. She lives in another province from me,
is still in school, and my mother is wise enough
to never let her know where I live. Those close
to me know who she is, and not to share
any information. Story Two, my older brother isn't just troubled.
He's dangerous. Even my parents parents are surprised he isn't

(05:01):
in jail for serious crimes yet. He's been aggressive for
as long as I can remember, beating us as kids
for imagined slights, and even once knocking our disabled dad unconscious.
He's been arrested multiple times, and after the most recent arrest,
when customs stopped weapons he ordered from overseas, a police
officer came to my mum's house a few days later

(05:22):
and asked if she knew he might have mental health issues.
She said yes, but didn't think anyone would dare tell
him that the officer agreed. His latest pastime is walking
the streets with a signal jammer while people are trying
to make calls, or using it outside the fire or
police station. He finds it hilarious. He was banned from
a local grocery store for threatening a staff member for

(05:43):
supposedly looking at him, and that's not even close to
the worst things he's done to our family. Story three.
I realized my sister wasn't normal and was extremely self centered.
When everything about my wedding had to revolve around her,
she made life miserable. My friends were shocked at her behavior,
and I finally had to acknowledge that her actions were

(06:04):
ruining special occasions. If she didn't get her way, I'd
face a stream of cruel insults. We're about three and
a half years apart, and I'm the oldest. She's the
middle child. She has no empathy, never apologizes, just says
the most hurtful things and moves on as if I
deserved it. She has the temper of a child, explodes often,

(06:26):
and then makes everyone feel sorry for her. Now that
I'm pregnant, it's only gotten worse. I've had to remove
her from my life because it's one of the most
toxic relationships I've ever experienced. That's when I truly realized
she might have serious narcissistic tendencies. Story four. Where to begin?
I think I noticed long before our parents did. Either

(06:48):
they didn't want to see the truth to avoid the pain,
or they both worked long hours and I spend a
lot of time alone with my younger brother. One day,
I came home from my after school job and saw
him standing over a big he had lit in our
front yard. I calmly asked him to put it out,
worried about the garden and my family's rose bushes, the
last plant from my grandfather. He didn't respond, but minutes

(07:11):
later he followed me upstairs and physically attacked me. That
was the first of many violent incidents. Others included throwing
a knife, kicking our sixty year old father in the stomach,
running away, threatening to harm himself, and developing paranoid delusions
about people trying to harm him and the family dog.
Our parents only accepted the grim reality much later. He

(07:34):
is the reason I first left home sleeping with a
locked door. Still didn't make me feel safe. I still
worry I might one day get a terrible phone call
saying he has harmed our parents. Story five. She's two
years older than me. When I was three, she convinced
me to pile as many blankets as possible on our
sleeping little brother until our mom returned. I'll never forget

(07:55):
my mom's reaction when I excitedly told her about our prank.
Luckily he was a When I was about seven, our
daring little brother climbed high up a tall evergreen tree
and got stuck. I tried convincing him to hold on
while I got our parents. My sister started shaking the
tree and chanting fall, fall, Fall. He fell and landed

(08:15):
on his back. My sister ran away, and my brother
was unconscious for several terrifying seconds before he finally opened
his eyes and was fine. I was shocked to discover
my sister hadn't told anyone. There were many things like this.
She was cruel to us, especially me since I'm also female,
and enjoyed causing me distress. These two moments are the

(08:37):
only times I can look back and think she actually
wanted to cause serious harm. Over the years, I became
haunted by memories of her cruelty, like when she forced
me to destroy my artwork and my parents denied her
wrongdoing while making me obey her every demand. I once
even had to leave a movie theater because I couldn't
stop thinking about it. What makes her truly manipulative is

(08:58):
how she pretended to be nice, lied easily, and felt
no guilt. I was about sixteen when I finally refused
to take the blame for something she had done. She
was skilled at making herself look like the victim and
convincing me I should take the fall because I supposedly
wouldn't get in as much trouble. Story six. I am
twenty two and my half sister is twenty seven. One

(09:20):
day she invited me to lunch, which was unusual because
she never really shows interest in how I'm doing. I
asked her what was wrong and why she wanted to meet,
and she said nothing, I just want to have lunch
with you. We arrived, and she waited until after the
meal to tell me that my dad, not her biological father,
had been arrested two days earlier because of an addiction

(09:41):
to harmful substances. I'm currently on medication that can cause
seizures if I drink alcohol with it. And for my
twenty second birthday, her present to me was a large
bottle of wine. When my brother in law saw the
embarrassment and sadness on my face, he asked why I
reacted that way. I told him about my medication. He
was shocked because my sister had never told him. From

(10:03):
the moment she handed me the bag, she laughed to
herself like it was the funniest thing in the world.
When we were younger, my sister and I shared a room.
We had a metal framed bunk bed, and she once
lifted the mattress of the bottom bunk and told me
to look under it. Being the seven year old I was,
I did. As soon as I stuck my head under,
she let the mattress drop with full force on the
back of my head, making my face hit the metal bars.

(10:26):
I started bleeding, and after I got out, I ran
to my mom. My sister found it hilarious. We also
shared a bathroom, and once she locked me out, refusing
to let me in. My parents' bathroom was off limits,
so I stood there begging while she laughed even harder
when I ended up having an accident when she was
in middle school. My parents let her go to the

(10:46):
movies with friends if she took me along. They bought
tickets for the Santa Claus two two thousand and two,
but then went into another theater to watch ghost Ship.
I stayed until a disturbing scene came on and told
her I wanted to leave, but she refused. She told
me to go watch the Santa Claus two alone. While
alone in that theater, a man tried to talk to
me and wouldn't leave until I loudly refused and ran

(11:09):
to a manager. On the way home. She made me
promise not to tell our parents, but I was so
scared that I broke down and cried when my mom
asked about the movie. I was eight years old at
the time. My parents didn't help me pay for college
because she had dropped out. They didn't help me get
a car or learned to drive because she had used
the one they gave her for reckless behavior. Now I

(11:29):
don't talk to my family because they treat me like
I'm the problem, while my sister is seen as the
angel with the perfect life story seven. My little sister
may not have an official diagnosis, but she's been not
right since at least age four. For context, she's nine
years younger than me. One day, when she was five
and I was babysitting her, we were laughing together when

(11:51):
she suddenly said, I'm going to hurt you and hide
you where mom and dad can't find you, before smiling
and walking away. I told my parents, but they did
dismissed it. From then on, she would start small fights
with me, or sometimes pin me by the throat to
the wall and hit me. She's been almost twice my
weight and taller than me since she was ten. Then
she'd cry and tell my parents I hit her, and

(12:13):
she'd be delighted when they punished me, even though I
never touched her. Every conversation she has seems calculated, as
if she's acting for an audience. She never apologizes sincerely.
I'm her half sister, and when she found out, she
mocked me constantly until my mom told her to apologize.
I said, I only wanted it if it was sincere,

(12:34):
and later she told me I'd never get a genuine
apology from her because she never feels sorry for hurting others.
There's more, but that's what stands out most. Story eight.
My sister once tried to give me an illness. I
live in a much nicer home than she does. I've
known her for almost forty years, and her behavior follows
patterns that I can now recognize. She'll have a good period,

(12:56):
spending time with her kids, getting along with her ex,
cleaning her home, looking for work, and during that time
she tells me how much she loves me. Then she
starts to get disappointed when things don't go her way
before she becomes depressed. She gets angry during this phase.
I'm a frequent target because I won't give her money.

(13:17):
She becomes verbally abusive, saying you both think you're so
much better than me. When she's winding down from one
of these episodes, she'll sometimes act calm and talk NonStop
for hours, but if she thinks I'm judging her, she
blows up and becomes destructive. She's stolen things, damaged my property,
and focused on whatever I have that she doesn't, or

(13:38):
in this case, something she has that I don't, a
certain infection. She's tried to harm me before, like serving
me food that had gone bad or attempting to give
me medication without my consent. Recently, I noticed things moved
in my bathroom and suspected she was up to something.
When I checked, I found the box of sanitary products
had been emptied and refilled in a suspicious way. Story nine.

(14:02):
I first realized my sister was deeply manipulative when she
got caught cheating at school and, when asked why she
hadn't studied, claimed it was because our dad had been
hurting her. This led to child Protective Services getting involved,
but they found no evidence of harm. Then she claimed
she wasn't a virgin because her brother had hurt her.

(14:22):
Two of my brothers were ruled out immediately, leaving me
as the target. Unaware of the accusation, I visited her
every day for a week at the facility she'd been
sent to, trying to be a good brother. Later I
learned they had been observing me, but eventually concluded the
story was false. I had never even kissed a girl
at that point. Fifteen years later, I refused to be

(14:42):
alone in a room with her. I know she has
made similar accusations against dozens of others, either for attention
or to escape difficult situations without any remorse for the
damage she causes. Started ten, my brother always seemed different
when we were little, he made up this game called
Joe and the Wimp, which was really just boys wrestling,

(15:03):
but it wasn't just ordinary wrestling. It was all about
power and control. He would have his forearm pressing down
on my neck and whisper things like someday, I'm going
to hurt you, and nobody will do anything about it
because I'll plead insanity. He would also talk about how
he would harm me in my sleep. I have woken
up a few times and found him just standing there

(15:24):
in the dark looking at me. Once my dad caught
him in the middle of the night getting a kitchen knife.
He said, I have to hurt me. He was six
years old at the time. At sixteen, he and his
unstable friend carried out a home invasion on me and
my friend. I had to go to the hospital afterward.
He attacked our mother, breaking her arm, and I suspect
she was injured in a way that made it hard

(15:45):
for her to sit for a while. Then he was
going to stab me. I got chased half a mile
through the woods until he tripped and I managed to
get away. He was planning to shoot my dad when
he was seventeen. He said he borrowed the gun from
a neighbor. I saw it was a thirty eight. A
couple of friends talked to him out of it. He
has been on disability since he was maybe twenty, I

(16:06):
don't know for sure. I stopped interacting with him when
I went to college many years ago. To this day,
I suspect he might try to follow through on his
desire to hurt me, believing he could get away with
it by claiming insanity. It has been years, but even
just the other night I had a dream that he
was trying to harm me. I do not like knowing
that someday I may have to defend myself against him.

(16:28):
Story eleven. My mother is a narcissist. She was mistreated
constantly by her brother growing up, who I'm pretty convinced
is a sociopath. However, she has always had to be
in control of everything. She is never wrong, and she
sees herself as the pinnacle of what a person should be.
She will say terrible things to me, and there was
never a punishment that matched the offense. Every shortcoming was

(16:51):
punished harshly, but the follow through was never consistent. The
first memory that stands out in my mind was Mother's
day when I was six or seven. Genuinely wanted to
help my mother in every way that day, but when
it came time to cook dinner, I wasn't doing everything
exactly her way, so she screamed at me to get
out and drove me to tears. Once I hit puberty,

(17:13):
it got so much worse. My mom definitely has some
form of eating disorder, and so did her mother. The
first words she said to me when I got my
period were that I couldn't eat like a kid anymore.
When my body started changing and I put on five pounds,
my mom started me on diets. She would watch everything
I ate closely, so naturally I became obsessive over food.

(17:35):
On one occasion, I took a cookie at a Christmas
party and she saw me eating it, ripped it out
of my hands in front of people. I snuck another one.
She caught me and proceeded to throw a handful of
cookies at me and call me names in front of
my friends. She would make me get on a scale
every week, and if I gained weight, she would ground
me or take something away. It wasn't long until I

(17:56):
developed severe bolimia. She still denies having anything to do
with it, despite lingering damage to my heart and stomach.
When I lost a friend of suis. She told me
I was full of it for being upset, but agreed
to take me to see a therapist anyway. I didn't
fully realize how bad it was until I finally started
saying it out loud. I'd like to think I've gotten
past it, but the thought of having a child terrifies me,

(18:19):
because I'm scared I'll become my mother. Story twelve. My
sister's three years older than me. I have always known
there was something fundamentally and permanently wrong with her. She
has been a cruel bully her whole life. When I
was a kid, my parents used to say all three
of us sisters would get along when we were adults,
but I knew she would never be normal or nice
as a kid. I would have just said she was mean.

(18:42):
Now I would say she has narcissistic personality disorder. She
hasn't been on speaking terms with our other sister for
several years because she punched her in the face in
the middle of a crowded museum full of families and children,
about an hour before my dad was scheduled to propose
to my stepmom. In the diamond exhibit. She would in
her twenties when this happened. She slaps her husband in

(19:03):
the face for things like not having directions pulled up
quickly enough on his phone or spilling tea on the
kitchen floor. She has never had a job, and her
husband has been supporting her financially since they graduated from
college almost ten years ago. She once threw her husband
out of the house that he pays for and made
him get a studio apartment so she could live alone
while she dated other people. He wasn't allowed to see

(19:25):
anyone else. During this time. She posted pictures of him online,
telling everyone how much she adored him. I only knew
the truth because a friend of mine found her dating profile.
She told me how she was such a victim in
the relationship because her husband was worthless even though he
works to pay for everything while she does nothing around
the house. She cut me out of her life with

(19:46):
no explanation, shortly after I got pregnant. It's obvious to
me it's because I was taking attention away from her
while she was getting sympathy from the family over her
alleged infertility. For as far back as I can remember,
she has taken any things she wanted from me or
our other sister. As a teenager, she once took new
underwear I had bought with my own money and laughed

(20:07):
when I asked about it. She once poured a teapot
over my mother's head when I planned my small courthouse
wedding because I was pregnant, she tried to take over
the planning. The night before the wedding, she wanted me
to wake up an hour earlier for something she wouldn't
even explain. I refused, and she was still upset the
next morning, making my wedding day about her unhappiness. I

(20:29):
found out later. She immediately went to my dad and
told him her version of events. When we were very young,
she told me and my other sister to get in
a box because our parents didn't want us anymore and
were sending us away. We believed her and were crying
until our parents found us. One Christmas, when she was
about fourteen, she disliked all her presents and complained the
whole day, upsetting my parents. She once slapped me at

(20:52):
Thanksgiving in front of extended family because she didn't like
the subject of my story. Story thirteen. I don't think
my brother is a sociopath, but he definitely has serious
anger issues, and aside, nobody likes to see. I recall
when I was little, around six and he would have
been nine or ten. He would take his cologne, tell

(21:14):
me it was spray candy, but that I could only
have some if I let him spray it, and then
he'd spray the colonne down my throat. I also remember
several times when we would be playing by taking turns
rolling each other in a big blanket, and he would
roll my head up in it, tie a rope around
me so I couldn't move, and then press a pillow
against my face so I couldn't breathe. Many times I

(21:37):
almost drowned in pools because he would hold me underwater
for so long. The worst part is that my parents
never did anything to help, but I would get in
trouble for a lot of things he actually did. To
be honest, I've suppressed most of my childhood memories and
only remember them when someone else brings them up. But
I do remember how intense his bullying could be, how
he would keep going until I cried, and then keep

(21:59):
going even more. He would always set me up to
get in trouble for things. So many times he pushed
me so far that I'd finally snap and yell back,
only for my parents to yell at me and punish
me instead. In all honesty, I really think he is
what pushed me into developing anorexia and bulimia. When I
really knew he must have had deeper issues, was seeing

(22:20):
how mad he could get over the simplest things. If
you accidentally broke a cheap item of his, like a
five dollars pair of earphones, he would yell for an
hour about it and then be angry with you for
several days. Once a group of guys decided to beat
him up. It was five against one, and up to
that point this was the only fight he had ever lost.

(22:42):
He was already furious about that, but then he saw
that one of the other guys had a firearm on
him legally during the fight. The guy never pulled it
out or threatened him, But anytime we bring up this incident,
even years later, my brother says things like he should
have taken the gun and used it, or pulled out
his pocket and stabbed him. He has also said that

(23:02):
he wanted to hurt his ex many times, including when
they were together, though he says he restrained himself. The
only thing that keeps me from thinking he is a
complete psychopath is the fact that he loves dogs, absolutely
adores them. I also remember him crying one time about
six years ago. That's the only time I've ever seen

(23:22):
him cry in the sixteen years I've been alive. So yes,
he has some serious problems, but I don't know what
they are. I hated him for these things when I
was younger, but now my heart just breaks for him.
Any time I hear him getting so angry, or when
I think about the things he's done. I wish I
could hate him, but I just can't. All I can
imagine is the life he could have had if he

(23:44):
had never been this way. Nothing's worse than having someone
you love be so cruel and so lost. Story fourteen.
My parents first noticed something when I was very young,
around three. I wouldn't let anyone but my mom touch me,
not out of fear, but more because I hated them
touching me. I bit and hit my dad and siblings

(24:05):
dozens of times just for coming too close. I would
fly into a rage if they upset me. My rages
have been a constant in my life. When I was younger,
I would sometimes pass out after calming down because of
the sheer energy I had spent. A few times, I
even coughed blood after screaming so loudly. The police were
called multiple times because of those incidents. But that was

(24:28):
just me as an over emotional child. The abnormal stuff
isn't just that. I used to put my hands around
my younger sister's neck when she cried to make her stop,
and I would pick her up by the neck when
she was being carried by Mum or Dad. I would
draw attention back to myself by digging my fingernails into
her ankles, her feet and laughing like it was the

(24:48):
funniest thing in the world. If she cried or screamed,
I actually got a rush from it, not in the
way you laugh at a comedy, but more like a
disturbing sense of power. I can't remember the first time
I thought threatened her or my older sister with a knife,
but I do remember the last. My older sister, three
years older, was crouched in the corner, crying and begging

(25:10):
me not to hurt her, while I stood over her,
laughing and yelling about how easily I could hurt her
holding the sharpest knife I could find. I was fourteen
at the time, now seventeen. I truly intended to harm her,
maybe worse. The rush of power made me feel completely manic.
I have never felt like that outside of situations like this.

(25:31):
When I was seven, I stabbed my little sister five
in the chest with a pair of safety scissors. I
went for the chest because that's where the heart is,
and that's what you learn control's life. I genuinely wanted
her gone in that moment. The sternum stopped it from
being worse. When I was even younger, I hurt our cat,
squeezing her until she cried out, holding her tightly around

(25:54):
the neck until she gasped, pressing her face down and
squeezing her feet so she would let out muffled cross eyes.
Once I went too far and dislocated her shoulder. Luckily
she has no lasting issues. I feel sick typing this now.
I knew what I did was wrong, but the power
over an innocent animal's pain or comfort felt intoxicating in

(26:15):
a way that made me hate myself. The thing that
sets me apart from others who act like this is
the guilt. I can't explain it without describing what happened
when it hit me. When I threatened my older sister
all the times, but I remember the last most. As
soon as I snapped out of it, I was horrified.
I immediately started crying and screaming, pulling my hair and

(26:36):
hurting myself with the knife. No punishment felt like enough.
I would have seriously injured myself if my older sister
hadn't intervened. After I stabbed my little sister and saw
the blood, I screamed from my parents, sobbed, tried to
hug her, and tried to scratch my own skin off.
Every time I ever hurt my cat, I would cry
for ages afterwards, sometimes hurting myself by slamming against walls,

(26:58):
cutting myself or burning my skin. I would then be
so gentle with her for a long time after. I
know this doesn't erase what I did. It was like
there were two different people inside me. Now, I tell
myself I have to be the good me all the time,
because she loves me now and comes to me instead
of running away. I don't want to betray that. My

(27:20):
sisters and I have a better relationship now that I'm
on medication and in therapy for my outbursts, but they
are much closer to each other than to me. This hurts,
but I understand when I was the antagonist in their lives,
they depended on each other. My little sister is quiet, anxious,
and avoids conflict now, and I know I contributed to that.

(27:42):
She forgives me, but I can't forgive myself. My mood
swings an occasional lack of empathy still hurt my social relationships.
I become obsessive and overly attached, or I don't care
at all. There is no middle ground. My feelings of
hatred and love feel similar, and I often feel both
or the same person. I know I need help for

(28:02):
this because it's still happening, but my therapy was suspended
and replaced with a specialized eating disorder program. They want
me to gain more weight, even though I don't meet
the criteria for anorexia anymore, and I feel like it's
making my body image worse. That's another battle entirely story. Fifteen.
My brother, who is nine years older than me, has

(28:24):
tried to kill me at least twice. Once when I
was a baby. He calmly and quietly took me from
my highchair, carried me across the street to the school,
and proceeded to dangle me by my ankle over a
three story fire escape to see what happened. Then, when
I was twenty three, I was working with him for
a few months. He constantly insulted me my intelligence, I'm

(28:45):
much smarter than him, my relationships, and my life in
general for three months until I couldn't take it anymore
and broke down. While we were working on a job site.
I told him I couldn't work with him anymore, and
he took a survey stake and stabbed me in the
chest with it. He had been aiming for my throat
and missed by about half an inch. I didn't talk

(29:05):
to him for almost two years until he begged and
pleaded for me to accept his apology by giving me
hockey tickets. I haven't truly forgiven him, and his kids
are unpleasant, but he treats me nicely enough now that
I can fake it for the sake of our family.
Story sixteen. I don't think my sister is a sociopath,
but she has had moments where she seemed to switch

(29:27):
into a state of pathological viciousness. If anything, she might
have borderline personality disorder. When I was about eight or nine,
I went into the backyard, filled our kiddie pool with water,
and lay there splashing around. My sister, ten or eleven
years old, took a drinking glass, filled it with the
hottest water from the tap, casually walked up behind me

(29:50):
and poured it on my back. I screamed and begged
her to stop. She laughed. At least she didn't boil it,
so it didn't blister my skin, but it was hot
enough to feel like a sudden bad sunburn had exploded
over my back. I dunked my back in the cold
water until the sting went away. Then she did it again.

(30:10):
I screamed more, and this time as she poured it
over me, I spun around to try to get away,
so it covered my back and stomach. She just walked away,
laughing and smiling. My brother also recently told me about
a time when he eight or nine at the time
my sister was twelve or thirteen, had a bizarre bullying

(30:31):
experience with her. He had said, I thought middle schoolers
only had five class periods a day. My sister started
cackling and shouting, we have seven class periods. Her reaction
was strange enough, but worse was how she kept repeating
it at him over and over. She wouldn't stop. He
eventually ran into a nearby bathroom, locked himself inside, and

(30:52):
cried while she followed him, still shouting. While he was
in the bathroom, my sister made several dozen photocopies of
her school skins and began stuffing the copies under the
bathroom door, shrieking with laughter. My brother says her piercing
bansheet like cackle almost scared him. Even now, as a
thirty six year old woman, she sometimes laughs that way,

(31:14):
and he says it always takes him back to when
he was hiding in that bathroom. Needless to say, our
parents were oblivious, rationalizing it as normal sibling rivalry. In
the end, she only became more bizarre and unpredictable, to
the point of almost strangling me a few years ago.
We don't know what to make of it, except that
it might be a symptom of brain damage related to

(31:36):
her childhood epilepsy. Story seventeen. Not sure if this applies
or not, but here's what I can tell you about
my older sister She's always been self absorbed and self centered.
I was always the first person to call her out
on her behavior, so naturally we fought a lot. She
got pregnant and had a son about three years ago.
She left an abusive boyfriend and moved in with my parents.

(31:57):
Everyone helped care for the baby, but she refused to help.
After a while, other family members began to notice what
I had already known. She was an alcoholic with drug problems,
had extreme mood swings, once even trying to fight my
younger brother, and was a hardcore narcissist. Just ten days
after giving birth, she was back to drinking heavily. Once

(32:18):
she tried to breastfeed while drunk. We stopped her and
explained why it was wrong, but she argued it wasn't
a big deal and wouldn't affect the baby. My parents
suspect she drank during pregnancy, though she won't admit it. Eventually,
she began finding ways to make everyone argue. She manipulated
people in the worst ways, creating so many problems for

(32:39):
my parents. It wasn't practical to have her in the
house angry and unhelpful while they were raising her son.
Whenever my mom told her the baby needed to be
changed or fed, she acted helpless or told someone else
to do it. Whenever we tried to teach her how
to care for him, she ignored us or locked herself
in her room. She wouldn't bathe her baby, but her

(33:01):
makeup was always perfect. About four months after the baby
was born, she left. She went back to her abusive
boyfriend and didn't take her son with her. She didn't
even try. She abandoned her baby. My parents raise him now,
and he will be turning three in June. She has
only visited three or four times since she left. It's sad,

(33:21):
but narcissistic people sometimes aren't good parents. They can't truly
care for anyone but themselves. I don't have a good
relationship with my sister because I believe she isn't a
good person. She tries to make people believe she has changed,
but she still makes no effort to support her son
in any way. Story eighteen. I had a narcissistic mother

(33:41):
and a narcissistic sister. I was three years older, and
I noticed from the very start that my sister was
not normal. She would throw toys out of her crib
all the time, and my mother would force me to
give them back to her. Every single time. She would
pull my hair. When she learned how to walk, she
started biting me hard. Oh, she's so much smaller than you,

(34:03):
You have no right to complain, my mother would say.
Every time. After that, she started throwing hardwood toys at
my head. Whenever I tried to make a friend, which
was rare, she would scare them away, stabbing them with pens,
or making loud, disruptive noises when they were near. As
she got older, she and my mother worked together to

(34:24):
steal my money and sabotage anything I tried to do.
She probably caused my allergy to perfume by spraying it
constantly in my room, many different perfumes at once, so
much that you could see clouds of perfume droplets in
the air. When I moved back home briefly at seventeen
because I had a job, she played loud music every

(34:45):
single night until I moved out again. When she found
out I was pregnant, she kicked me in the stomach
and screamed, I hope you have a miscarriage, you disgusting person.
Story nineteen. My younger brother and I used to be
best friends inseparable. We spent every summer day together late
into the night, smoking, discovering new music, watching funny shows,

(35:06):
making each other laugh, and having great conversations. That all
changed when my parents kicked me out of the house
for defending him over some small issue. In reality, my
mother had it out for me, and this was just
a convenient excuse since I had somewhere to stay at
my university. I had just gotten a puppy, and when
I was kicked out, I couldn't see him. Anyone who

(35:27):
has raised a dog knows that the puppy stage is short.
Every day I was away broke my heart. I told
my parents and I begged my brother to come visit
and bring the puppy. He said my parents wouldn't allow it,
and he didn't visit. I told him. I cried every
night about the time I was losing time I could
never get back. Sometimes he promised to come the next day,

(35:48):
but every time he flaked with an excuse. I even
asked him to let me in the side gate after
our parents went to bed so I could just pet
the puppy. Still he refused. About a month later, I
patched things up with my parents and moved back in,
only to learn that my mother had been encouraging him
to visit me with the puppy the whole time. He
just didn't feel like it. After that, I started noticing

(36:11):
other things I had ignored. I often gave him money
when he had no job, covering most of our summer activities,
while he was also stealing cash from where I kept
it hidden. We only ever did what he wanted to do,
and when I suggested something, he would rather be alone
than compromise. Whenever my mom went after me and my
dad sided with her, he never defended me, despite all

(36:33):
the times I had defended him. Later, I realized he
uses people when it's convenient, and once they're not in
his immediate orbit, he doesn't care. He's manipulative, pushy, and
self serving. Now that I've stopped visiting my parents after
a falling out, he hasn't once seen me or his niece,
even though we lived just twenty minutes apart. He continues

(36:53):
to live at home well into his twenties, doing nothing
for anyone but himself. Yet in my parent's eyes, he's
the good child. Story twenty. My older sister definitely fits
one of these categories. I remember her being mean and
cruel toward our parents at a young age. When she
was a teenager, she dated a guy who eventually moved

(37:14):
in with us because of problems with his family. The
moment I really realized something was wrong with her was
when they had a fight in our basement. She was
screaming at him and acting out of control. We had
a pool table, and she started picking up poolballs and
throwing them at him while he stood there crying. When
he tried to cover his face, she ordered him to
put his hands down, and he did. She kept pelting

(37:37):
him until there were no balls left. My friend and
I watched in shock. Since then, she's done terrible things
like ruining my mom's perfect credit by not paying back
a five thousand dollars loan my mom co signed, then
guilting her into giving more money by threatening to keep
her granddaughter away. There are too many stories like this.
I could write a book about what she's done. Story

(37:59):
twenty one. I only realized my sister is a narcissist
a couple of years ago. I knew she was abusive
and a liar, but when I moved to another country
about a decade ago, I didn't understand narcissism. I just
knew she liked to start fights, lie about what happened,
and never apologize. Growing up in a dysfunctional family, I
didn't think much about it, except to be upset. It

(38:22):
wasn't until I returned to visit after ten years away,
ten years of living among normal, respectful people, that I
saw clearly she pulled the same behavior as always, but
now I knew what to expect from normal people, and
her actions stood out even more. She nearly ruined my
visit and my mother's visit with our aunt, whom she
hadn't seen in years. But now I know exactly what

(38:44):
she is. I will never again put myself in a
situation with her where I can't simply leave the moment
she starts insulting people, taking offense over nothing, emotionally manipulating
or twisting events with lies. Story twenty two. When my
two older sisters were fifteen and seventeen, my oldest sister, seventeen,
was dating the guy who would later become her oldest

(39:06):
son's father. I knew my oldest sister wasn't normal when
she started accusing her nineteen year old boyfriend and my
other sister of having an inappropriate interest in each other,
or claiming he was attracted to my other sister simply
because he offered her a ride to school instead of
her having to walk for miles. This was literally because
my mom had the only car and used it for work,

(39:28):
odd errands, or her own personal life. But that's the
story for another time. My other sister got most of
my oldest sister's wrath because she couldn't handle sharing attention
and everything had to be about her. I remember her
making fun of my other sister's less developed body in
front of our older brother's friends. My oldest sister ruined
my other sister's high school graduation in her wedding. She

(39:50):
didn't even invite her to either of her own weddings.
I was much younger at the time, so I didn't
get the worst of it for many years, but as
I got older and became a successful adult, I eventually
became a target too. She is honestly the most jealous
and hateful person I have ever met Story twenty three.
Not my sibling, but my father and my stepmother. I

(40:12):
only started to realize the full extent of it as
an adult after moving back home and spending time around him. Again.
As a kid, he was abusive physically, mentally, emotionally. I've
shared some of my experiences with him before, so I
won't go into much detail here. Long story short, he
was a monster in private, while publicly he was seen

(40:34):
as a pillar of morality, a respected doctor, and an
all around stand up guy. It was like there was
a switch in his head. If anyone was around to see,
he acted like the perfect gentleman, and as soon as
there were no witnesses, it switched off with even the
slightest provocation. For the longest time, I figured he was
just a typical abusive parent, maybe with a dose of

(40:56):
narcissism and delusion. The tipping point was during a trip
last fall, when I asked him about how he treated
me as a kid. His reaction was almost total bewilderment,
as if it had never occurred to him that his
behavior could have been memorable, or as if he had
selectively forgotten it. The uncanny and disturbingly natural way he
responded made my skin crawl. More recently, I've moved back

(41:20):
to the area and he started asking to spend time
with me. At first I thought I might as well,
maybe I'd get a free meal now and then, and
if things turn sour, I could just walk away, since
I'm completely independent. Now, it's during these recent evenings together
that I've started to realize there's more to him than
I thought. He's just off. As a kid, and even

(41:42):
as a teenager, I never had a baseline for normal,
so his behavior seemed ordinary to me. But now the
little things stand out, nothing new, just all the old
patterns I used to excuse as he's just an abuser
or he's a narcissist, suddenly have a common threat. He
genuinely doesn't see them as bad, wrong, or unusual. If

(42:05):
I weren't independent, it would honestly scare me. The only
person he really has left in his life is his
second wife, a woman my entire family and her own daughter,
my stepsister, finds just as unsettling as I find my dad.
There's a long standing suspicion in our family that she
may have caused her first husband's death by tampering with
his car. He had money, he was losing it, and

(42:28):
they'd been fighting constantly. Then one morning, the breaks on
his brand new, less than a month old car failed
catastrophically on his way to work. She played the grieving
widow for about three months, then started dating my recently
divorced dad. She went from to distraught to leave the
house to cheerful and laughing at all his jokes, almost overnight.

(42:48):
She has the same switch my dad does, sweet and
charming in public, then cold and calculating the moment we're
alone with her. They married within a few years, and
now that they're comfortable, my dad has stopped pretending around her. She,
on the other hand, keeps up the public act, but
recently she's drawn attention again. She took out a large

(43:11):
life insurance policy on my dad, despite him already having
more than enough coverage, no risky hobbies, and a safe job.
Then she encouraged him to buy a small sailboat and
start taking it out alone on the open ocean, something
he's happily done since he misses the larger boat he
had when married to my mom. The rest of us
have already guessed what might happen, and none of us

(43:33):
will be surprised if my dad goes missing or dies
in a boating accident. As far as we're concerned, they
entirely deserve each other. Story twenty four. My mother used
to keep one of those big water jugs in her
room filled with change and one in five dollars bills
for Christmas. I was extremely young at the time, couldn't
have been older than six when I walked in on

(43:55):
my sister taking money from the jar. I didn't really
understand the concept of money yet, but I knew it
was important and earned. My sister told me it was okay,
so I took a dollar and kept it for a while,
but I felt bad and eventually put it back. She
kept taking money from my mother and even got my
friend involved. He was a great older than me and

(44:16):
my sister was thirteen. He told her it was okay too,
but he knew it was wrong and ended up taking
around ten dollars. I remember we rented Smash Brothers Melee,
played it a lot and bought candy. Eventually, my mother
noticed the jar getting lighter. She put it on our
dining room table, and without me knowing, left a note
saying that if someone came forward, we wouldn't be in trouble,

(44:38):
but that Christmas wouldn't be very good if it continued.
My friend and I walked in and he saw the jar.
He suggested we take some, but I said no. Then
my sister walked out of the dining room and recorded
him saying that on her iPod. I knew she had
been stealing most of my mom's money, but she just
played the recording anyway, and from that moment I didn't

(44:59):
trust her. My friend couldn't do much he was caught.
My sister eventually moved out of state and is coming
home from my high school graduation next week. Now I
have my own savings jar and I can't trust her
near my money. She never felt remorse and continued stealing
from my mom. My mom doesn't know, but I do,

(45:20):
and I kept it from her for a long time.
She stole from my mom again later, which eventually contributed
to the foreclosure of the house I grew up in.
She's not a very good person. Story twenty five. Not
my sibling, but my cousin. We grew up like sisters,
living in the same neighborhood and going to school together.
We were best friends. She was always a little selfish,

(45:42):
being an only child, but her behavior worsened as we
finished high school. She felt slighted by anything that hurt
her ego. If she felt judged, she became bitter and spiteful.
She surrounded herself with acquaintances, treating them like close friends
while abandoning long term ones. Once the two of us
and two lifelong friends made plans to hang out, we

(46:03):
talked about it every day leading up to it. On
the day, she never showed. We called and texted, worried
until we saw her pull into her driveway down the street.
We realized she had blown us off. She texted saying
she fell asleep and forgot. Then my boyfriend texted me
he had just seen her with two other girls at
the pizza place where he worked. Annoyed, I texted her,

(46:25):
if you wanted to cancel, you could have said so,
No hard feelings. She exploded, accusing us of judging her
for drinking we hadn't known, and saying we were jealous
of her other friends. We told her it wasn't about
the drinking, it was about lying. She then dredged up
past mistakes we'd made and told us we had no
right to judge. Later, she told her two new friends

(46:48):
how awful we were, and they started openly mocking us
on social media. What stuck with me most was how
she didn't even bother to hide it. She went to
my boyfriend's workplace hung out nearby and assume we wouldn't
call her out. Her ego is so big she either
didn't care or didn't think we'd notice. If you give
her an inch, she will take a mile, and if

(47:09):
you question her, she'll cut you off and blame you
for it. We're no longer close, and it breaks my heart,
but I can't have toxic people in my life. Story
twenty six, my brother has been officially diagnosed with antisocial
personality disorder sociopathy. We grew up together until our parents divorced.
He chose to live with our dad while I stayed

(47:30):
with our mom. He was fifteen at the time and
I was eight by the time I moved in with
my dad. Later, my brother had already moved out. Our
mom has her own mental health issues, which might be
where my brother gets it from. Dad told me stories
about him getting into fights at school due to his temper.
Once he and my dad argued about dad's wife at
the time, she wasn't a good person. During the argument,

(47:54):
Dad grabbed my brother's shirt and my brother thought he
was going to be hit, so he struck first. In
Dad's words, the boy hit me and I just saw stars.
They wrestled until Dad pulled several muscles and was bedridden
for three days. My brother later apologized, explaining why he
reacted that way, and they made up. That's the only

(48:15):
time he's ever gotten violent with family, but friends later
told me that in fights, even ones others started, he
was completely merciless, silent, and relentless. He later joined the
military for several years and recently got out after being injured.
That's when he told me he was a sociopath and
explained what it meant. I didn't believe him at first.

(48:36):
He's the nicest guy you could meet. His wife, friends, family,
and fellow soldiers all love him. He would go out
of his way to help people. Then one night, after
he had been drinking at a party, I sat with
him and he told me stories how he held a
dying friend but didn't really care, or watched someone he
had just spoken to get killed and didn't react. He

(48:57):
explained the rules he imposes on himself to blend in with.
It was chilling to watch the warmth leave his face,
replaced by something cold and calculating, and then just like that,
he slipped the mask back on. I love him deeply
and I know in his own way he loves me too,
but I realize now it might only be because it's

(49:17):
one of his self imposed rules. And I didn't understand
that until he told me he's the nicest sociopath you'll
ever meet. Story twenty seven. My older brother, two years
my senior, has always been a difficult person to deal with.
I can't point to a single defining moment that showed
me exactly how bad it could get, but I can

(49:37):
recall several incidents that have stayed with me. When I
was a toddler, he had one of those battery powered
toy jeeps. I wandered over to inspected, curious, but instead
of letting me look, he threw a tantrum, shoved me away,
and then deliberately ran me over with it. Another time,
we both received Pokemon skateboards as gifts. One day, he

(49:59):
left his on the street and a car ran over it.
He spent the rest of the day furious, blaming me
for not helping clean up our toys. Later, when he
saw me playing with my skateboard in the backyard, he
tried to take it from me. When I resisted, he
yanked it out of my hands, so forcefully that my
fingers were cut and bleeding. Then he hit me over
the head with it, breaking it in the process. Long

(50:21):
before that incident, I got a game boy in Pokemon
Gold for my fifth birthday. Nearly every day after he
would try to take it from me. If I didn't
hand it over immediately, he would hit me until I
gave in, and sometimes kept hitting me even after I
threw it to him. Most of the terrible things he's
done have been directed at me, and in a strange way,

(50:42):
I'm relieved it was me instead of someone else. Oddly enough,
I've always been taller and physically stronger than him. He's
actually a foot shorter than me. But because of that,
our parents and other adults never believe me when I
told them what was happening. Their only advice was something like,
if he's hitting you, hit him back. That was never
an option I could bring myself to take, except in

(51:03):
a few rare, extreme situations. Story twenty eight. My sister
has a diagnosed personality disorder, so I know some of
her actions are beyond her control. Still, she refuses any
help available because our father enables her behavior. Realistically, she
should be in an adult group home. And working regularly
with a therapist. Instead, thanks to our father's constant support,

(51:27):
she lives alone. He drives her wherever she needs to go,
and he shields her from consequences. When our father was
diagnosed with cancer in December, the year before last, it
was terrifying for all of us. At first, we didn't
know how serious it was, and we were deeply worried
for his health, But my sister's reaction went beyond fear
for him. She was also terrified of losing the person

(51:49):
who made her current lifestyle possible. She knew that if
something happened to him, she would either have to support herself,
which she's never been able to do, or move into
a group home. Rather than face either reality, she attempted
to take her own life. Just a few days after
learning that our father might be gravely ill, we were
sitting in a hospital room listening to a doctor explain

(52:12):
how she had taken a dangerously large amount of pills.
She lay there, sedated with a tube down her throat.
It crushed our dad emotionally, and the rest of us
were shocked and overwhelmed. I pushed for her to move
into a group home when she recovered, but both she
and my father refused. Instead of focusing on his cancer
treatment and recovery, Dad continued to care for her while

(52:34):
she frequently had emotional breakdowns over his illness. Fortunately, Dad's
treatment ended successfully this past January, and he's doing very
well now. Unfortunately, nothing has changed with my sister. She
still fully dependent on him, and neither of them see
a problem with their arrangement or are willing to change it.

(52:55):
Story twenty nine. My little brother would probably say I
was a sociopath, sheer narcissist growing up. Extreme violence was
part of my life from very early. My parents often
fought each other physically, my five feet one inch mom
being equally, if not more, terrifying than my six feet
four inch father. Both have mental issues, my mom being

(53:16):
bipolar and my father most definitely having narcissistic personality disorder.
After watching people run over each other with cars, strangle
each other with clothing, my mother climb on cabinets to
get a better angle to launch a knife attack on
my father's face, and countless hours of screaming inflicting similar
torture on my little brother seemed normal to me. In kindergarten,

(53:39):
I lured a kid into a sand tunnel and climbed
over it to collapse it, leaving her buried and hoping
she would die. In the hallway, I was shoved aside
by an older kid running to get to the bus,
so I caught up to him and shoved him from behind,
hard enough into the metal door that he broke his
front teeth. I stepped over his bleeding face and calm

(54:00):
took my seat on the bus. At lunch, a kid
bought an orange soda, my favorite, and when he refused
to give it to me, I bit my arm very
hard and started screaming that he did it. We were
escorted to the principal's office, where I watched him get
paddled while I drank his soda. When I was older,
my brother and I fought constantly. I remember sitting on him,

(54:20):
holding him by the ears, and slamming his head into
the ground until he passed out. I dragged his body
and piled him behind a recliner so no one would notice.
I tried drowning him in a river. I tied him
to a tree in the woods and left him there
as a game. I strangled him a dozen times, and
we both have knife scars from fighting. Each other. I
never tortured animals. I've always loved them and rescue foster

(54:43):
dozens of kittens a year. Animals never hurt me, so
I gravitated toward them. I wouldn't say I don't have empathy.
I'm actually very good at interpreting others emotions. But I'm
not very sympathetic toward people, and have been accused of
being cold and heartless. Really, I think most people are
just very weak mentally. I escaped my parents' abuse and

(55:04):
the suel abuse by others later on, and in my teens,
experimented with every mind expanding drug I could get. I
still smoke pot most days. I think between the pot
and sheer willpower to stay aware of myself. I've managed
to become the sane, stable, normal one. I'm married to
a loving person, and we have one amazing, non traumatized child.

(55:26):
I have no relationship with anyone in my family, including
my little brother, for obvious reasons. My disorder was the
direct result of intense childhood trauma, death threats, beatings, being
burned with cigarettes, ambulance rides in the middle of the night,
police rides to CPS, doors kicked in, heavy objects thrown
being kidnapped and left with strangers. Foster homes, broken glass,

(55:50):
broken mirrors, and so much blood were normal in my
earliest memories. As happy as I am most of the time,
I still have a deep well of rage and would
love to push the button that ended humanity for good.
Story thirty. My mother and my brother are narcissists. I've
gone no contact to escape them because of their abuse,
and now live in Europe with my ESSO. Since this

(56:12):
is about siblings, I'll focus on my brother. I realized
he was a narcissist after his girlfriend at the time
asked me if he cheated on her. He had. He
called me the night it happened, admitted it and asked
me not to tell. I told him I couldn't promise
that if she came to me. She did after I
told her. He ruined my life at work. He physically

(56:34):
bullied me and manipulated everyone, including our managers, into believing
I was a horrible person who would destroy them if
given the chance. He told anyone who would listen how
I lied, always in a way that made him seem
the victim. He went as far as disowning me in
front of everyone, with full support from all my coworkers.
That's how far his manipulation went. He was also stealing

(56:57):
tips from servers. He's an active drug addict and framed me.
He turned all my friends against me and didn't speak
to me for six months, all to maintain a huge lie.
He still denies it. The best part the girl he
cheated with was my good friend. She admitted everything and
tried confronting him several times. His response was always, what

(57:18):
are you talking about. We're great friends. I would never
do that. I sought help for myself. I'm in therapy,
take medication, and I'm not in denial about my depression, anxiety, PTSD,
or my addiction. I've been sober almost two years now.
That's just one light example of the torture of my childhood,

(57:38):
the physical, psychological, and verbal abuse. Being under a narcissist's
control your entire life is terrifying. It's like your life
was a script written for you, where you exist only
to serve them. When the script is ripped apart, you're
forced to start over, discover who you are, and learn
what real life is like. My brother and mom were
bad people. I don't miss them. I'll never know what

(58:01):
it's like to have a real family, but I'm okay
with that because I'm free now. I have an s
who loves me and shows me unconditional love. He doesn't
punish me for dropping something, telling the truth, opening up
about my feelings, or sharing what I want to do
that day. He's showing me what normality is, something children

(58:21):
from narcissistic households never knew or understood. Story thirty one.
My brother isn't as extreme as some examples I've heard,
but he's definitely incapable of empathy. It's hard to pinpoint
the exact moment I realized something was off about him.
Growing up, I didn't have many friends, so my perspective
on what counted as reasonable behavior was limited. In hindsight,

(58:44):
he never showed strong emotions except anger and embarrassment. The
only time I remember him crying in eighteen years of
growing up together was when he lost a game, and
even then it was out of rage and humiliation, not sadness.
I remember around ten years old he would have been
about thirteen when he hit me and then lied about

(59:05):
it to our parents. He looked me straight in the
eyes and swore I was making it up. It's hard
to explain how unsettling that was. But what made it
worse was that he never showed any remorse. He had
three distinct laughs, a genuine one when he found something
truly funny, a fake one he used around other people,
and this awful, snorting laugh through his nose whenever someone

(59:27):
else was in pain, struggling, or failing. It was like
other people's misfortune amused him. Now he works for Google
and earns a six figure salary. That's just how life
goes sometimes