Hers were very calmly delivered, pure psychological degradation. She was very narcissistic, such as entering beauty pageants, taking modeling classes, and becoming a varsity song girl (i.e., cheer leader) in high school. She craved the attention, and would walk past me on campus as if we were complete strangers — no, actually she’d probably smile to a complete stranger.

Sometime between his teens and 20s, my younger brother, Alan, emerged with his own narcissistic and violent, sociopathic characteristics. None of us were close growing up. The only two siblings who maintained an ongoing relationship into adulthood were Kathy, the oldest, and Alan, the youngest. They also shared the similar violent and hostile temperaments, the charming personas, and the complete lack of compassion, morality, integrity and of course, any semblance of honesty.

I guess from sheer luck, the gene skipped me. Doing so, though, resulted in me becoming the outcast, the same way my mom would end up being treated.

Question: What’s considered a bad-upbringing in terms of a sociopath … being spoiled or being abused?  Just food for thought.

It’s in our Genes … not our upbringing.

In summary, the bad gene was brought into the family from my dad’s side, and he passed it to three of his four offspring. I believe that I carry the gene, though I was the skipped generation. From what I’ve been able to gather, my dad got the bad gene from his mother’s side. The source paths don’t seem that difficult to identify, as long as one has a sufficient, if not just a minimal amount of experience to compare both parents.

Obtaining additional knowledge gathered from other branches of the family would prove very beneficial as well. And as luck would have it, I was recently contacted by a “distant cousin” from another branch of our family. He located me on Ancestry.com — a site I registered on a few years ago as a free member, and frankly, that was all I ever did. But his contact was very timely.

To tell my story completely, one must also know the physical trauma and injuries I endured, beginning with a broken back at the age of 12, and how my siblings used that to increase their character assassination of me, sometime after my hospital stay about 40 years later.

At the end of 2001, I had surgery on my back, and was infected with MRSA around my spine. Initially not even expected to survive, and after 120 days of intensive treatment, I never fully recovered. You can read all about the details leading up to that event from the links in the right column, right under MY NINE LIVES. If you do read it, pay close attention to the characteristics of my surgeon, and see if you recognize any familiar traits.

As I’ve said many times: “They kept me alive, but took away my life.”

How many sociopaths have you had in your life?

People who think they can read 10-steps on how to identify a sociopath need a reality check — it’s virtually impossible. Sociopaths are so cunning, such great actors, so manipulative, seemingly some of the nicest people around, that if you do suspect someone, there’s a good chance you identified a jerk. Sociopaths focus everything on hiding their true personality. They are the ones most people never suspect. Such as Bernard Madoff.

Unless you happen to witness something that sends chills up your spine — chances are you’ll never suspect anything. But if you do see something, you better hope they didn’t see you. If they discovered you witnessed something, anything, even nothing but they react from their own paranoia, it’s time for you to change jobs, or even move out of state. Because even if that individual laughs it off with an acceptable excuse, they now know you saw something that could threaten them.

The sociopath will win. They have no limits … you do.

They may even appear to become better friends with you, and that’s all it would be is “appearance.” What they could be doing is keeping a closer eye on you, and without raising your suspicions, attempt to determine exactly what you do know, what you did see, and what you will discuss. While at the same time, as they learn more about you, they could begin the process to decimate your character, spreading the most evil and malicious lies about you. So evil, that people who had associated with you, will begin to avoid you.

A sociopath takes no risks with having their public persona revealed as a fake, as that would threaten their entire lifestyle. Even if only fueled by their own paranoia, a sociopath will not wait to go on the defensive. What they do is what I call: offensive-revenge. A sociopath has virtually no boundaries or limits … they see it as a job that needs to be done, and nothing will get in their way to prevent them from achieving success. Not even the legal system.

It’s all in their public persona. Someone may present their persona at home, 24/7, just as they do everywhere else. Even a spouse can be extremely difficult to recognize as having sociopathic characteristics if they are determined to hide it from everyone, as they know even family can be a threat.

I believe that a sociopath can be so extremely ruthless, so evil, so guilt-free, that they are capable of what I call: indirect homicide. Such as a victim that became so banished and an outcast by those he considered friends, that the victim could resort to ending his own life.

And that sociopath would continue their maliciously evil lifestyle without losing a bit of sleep.

But frankly, we should really start at the beginning …

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NEXT:  Growing-up hated by my loved ones.

Therefore, the most important asset a victim can have is an abundance of undeniable evidence … solid substantiation to support the truth. Your word against their’s has a foregone conclusion — you will lose. Virtually no one will believe your description of the sociopath’s activities, statements, or their real character, since that charming persona has already destroyed your character, made themselves look incapable of any such activity you claim, and likely made you out to be a dishonest jackass.

The sociopath will not lose

A sociopath’s goal is to protect their public persona — protect their real personality from being exposed — and nothing will get in their way. They need to make sure your credibility is destroyed, so if anyone does listen to you, they won’t believe you. Saying that it is truly a living nightmare doesn’t do it justice. Becoming a victim is indescribable, something I know all too well. But what quickly becomes a sad realization, is how shallow and gullible the typical person is. People will easily pass judgment on an innocent victim based upon nothing but hearsay.

There’s not much better evidence than having the sociopath’s own words recorded. And better yet, audio with video. Technology has reduced the size of video cameras for spy use, and hidden them in items as small as a working ball-point pen — that’s right, a video camera with audio in a pen.

Be patient … don’t try to force the sociopath to say anything. They’ll get suspicious, and stop talking to you.

Recording in Person

Back during my divorce in 1995, I carried a micro-cassette recorder in my pocket, recording all discussions with my then-future ex-wife, Julie. Having it in my pocket, though, without a suitable external mic, resulted in very noisy, hard-to-hear audio. But it was better than nothing.

Technology has advanced quite a bit since then, such as a typical iPhone or iPod can record 10 or more hours without stopping. Discovering that you’ve been targeted creates the immediate need to begin collecting the best evidence possible to discredit your predator. And I say “immediate” because by the time someone realizes that they’ve been targeted, it’s possible that the sociopath had a head-start of a year or more.

Recording Phone Calls Legally

In late January 1995, about three weeks after Julie moved out, I set-up a phone recording system to record the conversations I had with her. That was a Sunday. When I returned home from work the following day, I discovered that Julie was sneaking into my home during the day and taking things … as well as using the phone.

In her very first use of the phone with the recorder connected, she called her office and spoke with her assistant, Christopher. That was precisely when I discovered that Christopher was much more than her assistant. She noted early in the conversation that the phones had been moved around, to which they both discussed for a while, then concluded that I was probably recording calls. But once they reached that conclusion, they simply went on with their conversation.

In my state of residence, one can record any phone call when at least one party on the call is aware of being recorded. There does not need to be any notification, such as a 15-second beep, or any other announcement. Just as long as at least one person knows.

Acknowledgement of being recorded

This first 8-second clip is of Christopher addressing me directly on the tape, thereby indicating he knew he was being recorded … they both did. In any event, I did not intend to record them, as they were using my phone without permission, when Julie snuck into my home while I was at work.

Based on all these things, I believe Christopher’s following statement would have been an admission of acknowledgement, and would have worked against them if the case had gone to court.

“… take food.”

Julie called Christopher at work, and obviously from her first comment, she came to my house to take a drill.

The very next part, Julie asks Christopher if he can think of anything else she should take, and under her mumblings, he says “take food.” As you listen through to the end, pay attention to her reaction … she knew that I’d be home to feed the kids within the hour.

A Battered Woman? … or an Evil, Scheming Woman?

Listen closely to Julie in this recording. Does she sound like a frightened, battered woman, or woman just taking care of business? No one on this planet has ever seen any violence from me, including Julie. But Julie, herself, is unpredictably violent.

This allows you to hear how easily a sociopath will plan malicious lies to destroy an innocent person. Just business. Only six weeks earlier, she was trying to convince me to have another child with her.

“Break the Rules …. It’s Really the Way I Think”

What Julie really means here is: “Break the Law or whatever it takes.”

The following is one reason, I believe, why Julie’s sister, Lori, told me to get a restraining order to keep Julie away from DK and EK. Lori also said, “Larry, you need to get custody to save those kids.”

Lastly, pay attention, not only to what she said, but how she said it — she’s on an psychotic roller coaster, illicit drugs, or both.

“… it’s Forcing me to Take the Kids and Run …”

… and this is another of Lori’s suggestions. In this clip, Julie blatantly lies by stating that I am making threats.

She continually destroyed my character by making me out to be a threatening, violent person, and did so with ease and without a hint of guilt. I do believe that this was all brought on by a mania, as she is also bipolar.

Take note, though, as to what she’s doing: Julie is making a threat to take the kids. That would be illegal. 

As above, note her emotional swings — I think it’s both.

How Character Assassination Spreads

The following audio clip shows how easily character assassination spreads. Julie has to keep her credibility, so she has to stick to her lies … she continued it to the present.

1) The male voice is Christopher’s — he and I had never met, nor had we ever even spoken.

2) Christopher states that he has me figured out, yet he’s only repeating back to Julie the malicious lies that she’s fed him about me.

3) Julie agrees with him as if he figured it out on his own.

4) Ironically, even though he says that I’m controlling, he’s blind to see that he’s being controlled by Julie.

5) This provides more details as to the lies Julie was (and is) spreading about me to not just Christopher, but everyone, including my sister, Kathy. She must keep her story straight to avoid getting busted.

6) What Christopher stated about me is what he will tell others … and the character assassination simply continues.

Julie calls me

I’ve got many of these. This is a very typical call between Julie and me during that period.

She’s also lying here, as I knew she was not at “Jill’s house.”

“… play doctor with me … good, I like that.”

In 1995, I was granted full legal and physical custody of our four-year-old son, and two-year-old daughter. As soon as Julie discovered I was filing for custody, she threw in the towel.

My attorney asked me why she gave in so quickly. My response was simple and candid, “Because everything I told you was the truth.”

Six days after the divorce was final, Julie and Christopher married — she has since walked out on him at least once with a new man already lined up.

Five months after the divorce, my three-year old daughter, EK, whispered to me that she and Christopher play doctor together on her mom’s weekends.

I called the police the next morning, and we set up a meeting for both my kids with the state’s child protection services. The deputy confirmed he would be there, too.

In hearing that, I made one request of the officer, “Would you please be in plain clothes?”

His attitude changed immediately, and he answered with a very defensive: “Why?!”

“Because if they feel more comfortable, I think they’ll speak more openly with you.”

“I’ll see what I can do,”  he replied. I could tell he meant, “No.”

He arrived in his full blue uniform. After the interviews, he said he couldn’t do anything else since they didn’t say much. And, get this, he was the deputy in charge of child abuse issues.

So because of that one cop’s arrogance, I had to let my daughter visit her mom that weekend, tormented knowing that Christopher, who works with kids in a middle school, was going to play doctor with EK.

What I didn’t know when I filed the complaint in the summer of 1995, was that I had a recording of Christopher asking my daughter to play doctor. All I was able to report in 1995 was that EK had whispered it to me. I had a lot of audio tapes, but since we didn’t go to trial, I just never listened to them all.

While preparing another defense from another law suit filed by Julie in 2006, I discovered the recording. Julie filed a completely bogus law suit against me because she discovered I knew much more about her background and activities than she thought I knew.

So, because of that paranoia-driven fear of being exposed, Julie immediately went into a sociopath’s “offensive-revenge” in which she completely perjured herself in a court-filed complaint, and to summarize this for now, she kidnapped my daughter. I believe kidnap means to illegally take a child (i.e., any aged human), and that’s what she did — with the court’s blessing. There’s too much to get into it here, but I will go into detail in the future. So, yes, a sociopath can manipulate the courts, too.

So, this is part of the phone call from 1995, that I found in 2006. No “authorities” ever heard this recording (not that it would have made any difference).

Regarding the sound quality: there may have been a recording problem (e.g., weak battery, etc.) … but, yes, that is very close to Christopher’s regular voice. My daughter sounds just as I remember.

When my son attended Rising Starr Middle School where Christopher is the librarian, he told me that Christopher had a deeper voice at school than at home. Hmm, now why would someone like Christopher want a job that kept him around children?

###

Updated & Revised: 18 Apr 2010

Mom was pregnant again. If my folks didn’t have a boy, that would put an end to any future generations of our family branch. In that vein, Marcia was probably a disappointment of sorts, not being a boy, which contributed to Kathy maintaining dad’s favor after Marcia was born.

It’s a Boy.

Namesake, even. Photos of me being held by every distant relative, many whom had not appeared in any previous family photos, and virtually no sign of Kathy in any of those early photos.

Now there was a third child to fit into the family photos, but instead of dad just putting me on his other knee, he removed Kathy from “her” place of honor, setting her alone on the cold couch, and placed me on the spot that Kathy considered her own.

Kathy must have continually seen the pride in dad’s face, holding this new intruder that dad had so easily replaced her with. She lost her special perch and dad’s attention … nothing she experienced with Marcia’s arrival. Undoubtedly, she wanted her position back with dad, so the resentment she built was most assuredly focussed on her intruder, and how she would need to dethrone him.

Kathy must have felt deeply rejected and hurt, and apparently, no one noticed. Even in this photo, Marcia is very relaxed, I’m having a great time, but look closely at the stress in Kathy’s little hands. Since some of my earliest memories include unprovoked hostility from Kathy, I really wonder when it actually began. As young and innocent as I was, I had already become a target.

A rejection that so obsessed Kathy, she never let it go.

By the time I got a little older, and began storing my own memories, I have no recollection, whatsoever, of ever seeing that pride in my dad’s face in real life. Never. It was only captured in photos when I was very young. What could have changed in a child between the ages of two and five?

All my memories of him include a face with anger, disappointment, or frustration. Never once in my childhood did my dad ever tell me he loved me, nor did he ever hug me. But I watched as he often hugged my sisters and told them he loved them … obviously, I didn’t live up. I do not believe anyone could have been younger than I was, when I was set-up for failure.

Attack avoidance.

Memories of my childhood are filled with my abusive, alcoholic father spanking me, and only me, when I was young, then turning to hitting me as I got older. My mom would place herself between us to let me get away. Then I’d hear dad yelling at mom for “interfering.” My oldest sister, Kathy, was violently hostile to me, and me alone. It was obvious to me that they hated me, but since it was what I was used to, I simply accepted it. What mattered was staying safe.

I was spanked often, even though he didn’t need much of a reason to spank me. I don’t recall my sister, Kathy, or my brother, Alan, ever being spank. There was the bare hand spank (usually avoided since it would hurt his hand), the belt, the wood paddle, the broom stick, and whatever else was within reach.

Witnessing a public persona.

When we were young, we always went to church services together on Sunday. Not that I knew what I was witnessing back then, but that was when I first experienced my dad’s public persona. He could be yelling at us in the car one minute, but as soon as we pulled into the parking lot, he’d smile and wave. I’d watch him walk up to his buddies, and I wondered how he could change so quickly.

He had just been swinging into the back-seat and hitting us in the car, and now he’s yucking it up with his church pals. He belonged to the mens’ club, volunteered his company’s services to the church, and always greeted everyone with skilled showmanship. He should have sold cars.

During summers, when I would go to dad’s office with him, I realized he was a completely different person to his employees as well, and if they were around, he’d treat me with a modicum of respect, too. He treated his employees so well, that I remember wishing I only worked for him. But once we got in the car to go home, he was able to remove his persona, and remind me what he was really made of. He would open-up on me for something I said, something I did, but no matter what day it was, there would always be something.

Having it backwards all these years.

Living during those times, I always felt that first and foremost, it was dad who hated me, and since Kathy was dad’s favorite, she hated me, too. And knowing she would not get in trouble, she also contributed her own hostility. At least, that’s what I believed until recently … amazing how a series of current events can correct history.

In some ways, dad’s and Kathy’s abuse was very similar, but not in every way. They both abused me physically and emotionally, such as being continually called “stupid” and “will never amount to anything” — funny though, but it was Kathy who never amounted to anything. She’s never kept a job. But one way they differed was in their physical approach: dad wanted to hurt me, but Kathy wanted to injure me. There’s a huge difference.

Dad was physically abusive to me when he drank, and although he drank everyday, he didn’t begin drinking until 5pm. A tall tumbler filled with vodka on ice is what he’d call one drink. He never had just one, though. So I did my best to stay away during that period.

When push came to shove, mom stood tall.

Once, when I was 16 or 17, I walked into the house to find dad waiting for me with closed fists. Luckily he was a terrible aim when he was drunk, but he just kept coming. Mom came in, yelling at dad to stop, but he wasn’t listening. Mom became almost hysterical, and headed to the other side of the house. Minutes later, Kathy ran in, announcing that mom had called the cops. Dad immediately stop and left the room, but Kathy continued looking at me, and said, “If I were you, I’d get out of here.” Her comment made me believe that I was in big trouble … probably what she was hoping for.

I did leave on foot, just at dusk. Sometime after dark, as I was walking through an unlit field, I was suddenly hit with a spot light, and then a second … I simply came to a stop, and waited. I heard footsteps coming towards me from two directions. The first officer simply asked if I was Larry … to which I replied, “Yes.” He then asked if I’d come with him, and I agreed. We walked backed to his car, he opened his front passenger door for me, and drove me back to our house. In addition to the car I was arriving in, there were three patrol cars parked in front. The word “serious” probably never had a greater meaning. Once inside, a detective introduced himself and asked me what happened.

As I’ve always been, I opened-up with complete candor. After no more then five or ten minutes, he got up, and asked me to wait there until he returned. He headed to the other side of the house, where my dad evidently was. Minutes later, he reappeared, and said, “If this ever happens again, please call me” — and with that, he handed me his business card. I recall being shocked, with my head spinning … I was led to believe kids would usually take the fall if it involved parents. But instead, it was the first time an authority figure revealed to me that my dad was in the wrong.

Mom did an extremely brave thing for which she probably paid for. The cops didn’t arrest dad, as I had no injuries. But he never attempted to hit me again.

Sibling brutality.

Kathy, though, had no time constraints. Every chance she got, I was in her sights. And she was brutal. She wouldn’t just scratch, but she’d attempt to create canals … deep bloody gouges. I always had to be aware of her legs, too, as they were her weapons of choice. As soon as I saw one leg swing back, I had very little time to twist and ruin her targeting. Instead of hitting her desired targets, I’d take the kick in my upper thigh. An impact with such force that it would result in a black and blue bruise the size of a baseball. She always tried … she never succeeded.

I was also keenly aware that whenever Kathy brought home a friend, and introduced them to the family, her friends would greet my siblings quite differently than me. They would warmly acknowledge Marcia and Alan, but with me, they’d rarely make eye-contact and maybe mumbled a “hi.” Though I was already a victim of it, it would still be many years before I knew the term “character assassination.” The introduction I clearly remember was when Kathy introduced us to her future husband, Marlin. After seeing how warmly he greeted the others, I felt I had leprosy when he greeted me.

Kathy answered only to dad … not to mom.

I also witnessed Kathy physically brutalizing mom. It was during one of Kathy’s arguments with mom, one which turned violent, that I first felt Kathy’s capability of true evil, cold-blooded hostility.

I was about 10. After just arriving home on my bicycle, I heard yelling between Kathy and mom on the opposite side of the house. I arrived to see mom literally flying backwards across the hallway, slamming into the closet, her spine hitting the doorknob, screaming-out, then dropping to the floor crying, obviously in intense pain. Mom saw me when she first looked up from the floor, as I approached to help her. When I got to mom was when I was first able to see Kathy’s closed bedroom door.

Kathy never opened her door to see if mom needed help. I remember feeling a very eerie chill that, behind that door, Kathy was smiling. And because she never opened the door, Kathy never knew there had been an witness. There was no one else in the house.

Out on my own.

Within a month after graduating high school, I moved out. The abusive relationship I had with dad evolved into no relationship. Kathy had achieved her long-term objective of having dad to herself. Kathy and Marlin had married and moved to Alaska. During my 20s, there would be periods of 2-3 years of no contact with dad. Mom and I were very close, and I had a relationship with her like no one else in the family.

Dad would not let mom have a private conversation with me, so we’d have to wait until dad would be out doing errands. Then we’d talk and laugh for 1-2 hours sometimes, until mom would say, “Oh, I hear the garage door opening … your dad’s home.”

Right when I’d hear him walk into the house, mom would say, “It’s Larry, he just called.”

Mom was such a funny lady, yet I don’t believe anyone in the family, but I, was aware of it. Mom would never speak openly to me unless she was alone, and as time went on, I realized that meant not only dad, but no one else in the family could be present.

Of course, now that makes more sense than ever. Dad brought the “bad gene” into the family. Dad, as well as all three of my siblings exhibit sociopathic characteristics. I’ve caught all of them lying, and I believe they’ll lie to be safe.

For some reason, I was spared the effects of the bad gene. I assume I was the skipped generation. That also meant I was closest to mom than any of the others, but other than in mom’s eyes, I was the borne outcast.

Time for change

At about the age of 30, after all those years of emotional and physical abuse, which led to my own fairly-low self-esteem, I met a very attractive woman who virtually fell for me. She treated me differently than anyone else ever had, which in turn had a very positive effect on my own well-being.

In just less than a year, driven by Julie’s desire to establish a solid future together, we were married. And with that, I began the next chapter of my life, with the most psychotic sociopath I would ever know. Bipolar, borderline schizophrenic, and dangerously vengeful — all verified when I found her psychological evaluation, twelve years later.

###

Realizing I was running out of time is one of the reasons I jumped on Semi-related Parallel Trauma to cover another very integral part of my recent past, but I didn’t even get to the guts of it. You see, I was infected with MRSA (Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus) around my spine during a somewhat routine operation. The majority of those infected, especially in hospitals, don’t survive. I wasn’t supposed to.

For those who don’t know, MRSA is the third leading cause of death in the US. It kills more than those who die in car accidents, those who die of HIV-related complications and AIDS, and those who die of breast cancer … combined.

Remember how much we heard about AIDS, and the fear was so high, people were afraid they could get it from a toilet seat? Now here’s something that makes AIDS pale in comparison, but why is it not at the top of the news? Could it be that all you need to do is follow the money? MRSA is primarily spread at hospitals. Most hospitals do not release mortality rates due to MRSA. Could you imagine if they did? People would select hospitals with the least deaths due to MRSA. So what would other hospitals need to do to draw back business … uh, I mean patients?

Clean up their acts (and their hospitals) to get their unnecessary MRSA deaths down. And let’s see, what would it require to accomplish that? Hmm. Could it be money? But if they can keep the whole thing hushed, what’s a few lives? Did you know that computer chips are built in rooms much cleaner than the typical hospital operating room? It’s not like they’re struggling for the technology. I knew of a very active mother in her mid-40s, with three daughters, who finally decided to get her tennis knee fixed. Three days after the surgery, she was dead.

I survived, but I’ll always have the MRSA bacteria in me. One time, for sure, I thought it was back to finish me off. They kept me alive, but took away my life. Even the sociopaths in my life used my physical condition when it was a benefit to take advantage of me.

Bottom line, if things don’t change soon, I will lose my home, which would result in me becoming homeless. My quality of life sucks now, but becoming homeless is unacceptable.

Being homeless scares the hell out of me … death doesn’t.

###

Things got quiet for almost two years, until I discovered from a relative who had not previously been involved, that they had a whole new impression of me. A few months later, I went live with the first site, and revealed it to my sister, Kathy, showing her I was serious and thinking she may stop.

What happened next was beyond frightening, as the capabilities of her blind followers, known as disciples, came through with immediate revenge. The following explains what happened.

Sociopaths spend their lives manipulating others,

While many consider this person a friend, and assume the feeling is mutual, the sociopath is not interested in having friends … the sociopath’s interest is in accumulating devoted followers. None of these “friends” would ever guess at the fact that they can be routinely suspected as knowing too much, placing them on very thin ice in becoming a target.

Estimates range from 4% to 12% of our society are sociopaths … which means about every tenth or so person who reads this is not going to appreciate it.

Dangerous because of ignorance.

Sociopaths are also very dangerous because of ignorance — not theirs, but everyone else’s. Virtually no one without real, first-hand experience is able to comprehend the reality of a sociopath.

A successful sociopath has their group of followers, but they will also have some who have been so completely suckered, that I call disciples. These are the people who have shown to be extremely gullible and easily manipulated.

They are such misguided believers that they become defenders of the sociopath, protectors from those persons they believe are trying to hurt their [sociopathic] friend  because of their popularity and success. They truly excel in living a life of denial, as well as setting a new standard for ignorance.

Note that the word ignorance  is based on the word ignore.  In my experience, that’s exactly what they do — they will ignore the truth. No matter how many times I stated that I held nothing but truths, all of which had substantiation (i.e., evidence), they still refused to look at the evidence. These disciples will lie to benefit the sociopath, and even spy for them. Yet they are so wrapped up and confused, that they truly believe that the bad people are the ones who are attempting to raise awareness.

Also, the disciples won’t even consider that they are being manipulated, used or suckered, nor do they believe they could ever be. They take it as a huge offense if they are told they are being used.

The disciples don’t believe that anyone they know is a sociopath, and the only bad people are those with false proofs.  Given their blind devotion, disciples are also very dangerous — just as sociopaths are — because the disciples will spy for the sociopaths.

How do I know this?

Unfortunately, this has all be learned through my personal experience as a sociopath’s victim … and to make matters worse, everyone involved is family.

If you’ve read my other posts here, you know that my oldest sister, Kathy, is a very malicious sociopath. It wasn’t until 2003, though, just after I turned 50, that a tiny slip-up led to her discovery. In the few short years since then, she was quite successful in maliciously destroying my character … so successful, in fact, that no one in my extended family will even reply to emails, let alone speak with me.

In July, I wanted to see if one of my cousins, Mary, had been sucked in, too, as I knew her older sister, Carol, had been. Since no one will speak with me, I needed to set-up something I could track. Before I began this site [Country-of-Liars], I put together another site with detailed substantiation, proving that my sister, Kathy, was telling nothing but lies about me. My stated goal was simply to clear my name.

I wrote a list-type email explaining what the site was about, and why I put it together. I also stated that I notified Kathy a week earlier about the existence of the site, but I had not heard anything from her. The email that I produce had all the appearances of being sent to a list, but in fact, I only sent to one person: Mary. It was all in perception … I wanted her to think she was sent it as part of a list.

Being a new site, it had few visitors, allowing me to see where the visitors were coming from.

The day I sent it to Mary, I had no visitors from her neck of the woods: Idaho — actually, if I had any visitors, there were no more than a few. The following day, though, the site got a lot of activity from one location — Mesa, Arizona. Coincidently, my sister, Kathy — the sociopath in question — lives in Mesa, Arizona. Kathy went directly to the URL I provided to Mary, and browsed the site for 35-45 minutes.

In turn, that makes Mary a disciple. Without even looking at a single page on the site, a site with nothing but substantiation to prove Kathy is a blatant liar, Mary forwarded the email to my sister, Kathy. She was protecting my sister, but from what? Truth? That’s all it had in it. Substantiated truth.

Why is it that people do not want to know the truth?

Pay-back time?

Almost immediately, though, some very strange things began to occur. I have 16 years of Web experience, and nothing has ever come close to what happened over the next 10-days. Coincidence? I think not.

Up until I sent the email to Mary, googling my sister’s full name would bring up that site — the site I had just created about her — and list it on the very first page of Google results.

Between 24-48 hours later, that site quit appearing entirely in any Google search results on any page. Gone. Vanished. Blacklisted.

There’s no doubt in my mind that someone on the inside at Google had blacklisted it. I’ve never heard of Google doing such a thing, as I believe that would be called: censorship — not something that’s in Google’s corporate policy. As bad as that was, things quickly got much worse. I believe it’s called …

re-venge noun :: the desire to inflict hurt or harm in retribution.

I own and operate an award-winning Web site that has been online since 1995. It simply provides a free service in a vertical market … and it’s been my flagship site for about 15 years.

Three days after I sent the email to cousin-Mary, I received an email from Google at 2AM on a Saturday morning, an email that I did not see for another eight hours. It stated that one of Google’s bots (i.e., robotic PCs) that was visiting and indexing my flagship site, coincidently had been infected with malware (interesting, but “malware” is short for “malicious software”… and I have a very “malicious sister” who was probably behind it).

So to protect the general public from that malware, Google was notifying me that they were now blocking my site — something that had begun more than eight hours earlier.

Once Google blocks a site, all search engines do. Only one person has ongoing access to that site, and that would be me. The public cannot add anything to the site, and Google is my only advertiser on the site.

I included the advertising notation because Google’s block page refers to links that could go to sites intending to spread malware. Often, those links to the malware sites are advertisers links — albeit false and misleading advertisers — but just about the only links pointing out of my site are from advertisers. And all the ads on my site are fed through Google’s ad program … Google is my only advertising provider.

Google would not provide any details to me, such as where on my site the malware supposedly infected their computer. They were in no apparent rush to remove the block, even though I was unable to find anything malicious on the site. Even when I had other services scan the site, none of them could not find anything malicious, either, but they said it was their company policy that they maintained the block as long as Google did. I was getting that “Big Brother” feeling.

Apparent Sabotage

I awoke on day three to find my site was still blocked, so I called the corporate offices of Google. Have you ever tried to find a phone number for Google? I do believe it’s the one and only thing you cannot find by googling. The person who answered said there was no one at Google corporate who could speak with me about the block, and then he even stated, with a bit of a chuckle, that Google can’t and doesn’t block sites. That’s precisely when I asked to speak with his supervisor. He told me he could not transfer me anywhere, and eventually he just hung-up on me.

Then, on day four, I got my biggest surprise. My Web hosting provider (DreamHost) is in the Los Angeles area, and has been my only hosting provider for the past four years. When I pulled up some records, though (curiously, on a Google page), those records indicated that my site was being hosted by two hosting providers — DreamHost … and very suspiciously, by Google.

Without obtaining my approval, nor even notifying me, someone had copied my entire site to Google’s servers … which means that one or more people inside Google had complete and unapproved access to my site … and what could be a legitimate reason? There is none. Yet they were able to do anything they wanted to, such as load malware on my site and send a googlebot in to get infected. At that point, the warnings and site block would kick-in automatically.

I immediately inquired at DreamHost. It wasn’t until I showed them a copy of the page that they became believers. They never experienced anything like it, but, since it was Google, they did not know what they could do. Their feeling mirrored mine as something was not on the up-and-up.

I certainly doubt that all sites, world-wide, found to have suspicious software, would be transferred automatically to Google’s servers. That would be ludicrous. I was not supposed to see that information, and I’m sure someone was betting I wouldn’t. I was logged into my Google account, and was navigating through pages I’d never been to before, when I discovered the dual-servers … something so remote that I could have easily missed, as I did the first time I looked at the page. It was just a line of text, on a page filled with text, and buried in the middle of the page.

No one has ever been able to provide a legitimate reason as to why my entire site was copied over to Google servers. I was down for almost 100 hours, and as you can see, the impact was immediate, and potentially hurt me in the long-run, too. It certainly smells of revenge. It’s not something I ever felt that Google was officially behind. But having grown up in Silicon Valley, with family still living there — family who supports my sister Kathy — it doesn’t seem very remote that someone working for Google is a friend of my sister’s, or my cousin’s. At the very least, the activity was unethical and immoral, if not illegal.

ADDENDUM – MAR 2010: Although all this took place during the summer of 2009, it was still an unanswered question in my mind, as to why my site was copied to Google. And not just copied to a Google server, but it stated that my site was being hosted by Google, in addition to Dreamhost.

Enough time had passed that I decided to ask in Google’s Support Forums if what happened to my site was typical. Reading through the thread is eye-opening, as the very first person to respond, just another user, understood exactly what I was asking. But after that, I only got the run-around, attempts to derail my question, and suspiciously getting me to reveal the site I was referring to.

Yet the question was not, at all, site specific. It was a simple, general question regarding procedures — i.e., does Google do THIS, yes or no? Also, read the last entry in the thread, which is mine. Note what I asked, and how that brought everything to a stop.

Here’s THE GOOGLE THREAD.  NOTE: a Google account may be necessary to access their support forum.