Inside A Person With ASPD

Chapter 1: What is ASPD?

People think we're heartless killers. Most of us just learned to survive in a world that punished emotion.

That's the part they never understand.

When people hear "Antisocial Personality Disorder," they picture serial killers, emotionless monsters, or manipulative sociopaths. The media made sure of that. In movies, we're the villains. In the headlines, we're the horror stories. But in reality? We're people—often shaped by pain, hardened by survival, and misunderstood by nearly everyone, including the mental health system itself.

ASPD isn't about being evil. It's about how we learn to survive when the world teaches us that vulnerability is dangerous. Most of us grew up in environments where love was conditional, trust was a liability, and power was the only protection. So we adapted. We learned to lie before we could love. We learned to manipulate before we learned to connect. We built armor over wounds that were never allowed to heal.

By the book, ASPD is defined by a long-term pattern of disregard for, and violation of, the rights of others. It starts young—usually before 15—and sticks with us into adulthood. But behind that clinical definition is something more human, more complex. It's not that we don't know right from wrong. It's that we often don't feel wrong the same way others do. That difference is subtle but massive.

Our brains are wired differently. Science has shown that people with ASPD often have abnormalities in the prefrontal cortex—the part of the brain responsible for decision-making and impulse control—and in the amygdala, which helps process emotions like fear and empathy. Add in lower serotonin levels, and you've got a cocktail of impulsivity, aggression, and emotional detachment. That's the biology. But biology isn't the whole story.

Environment matters just as much. I was diagnosed at 15, while in a boys' home. The doctor studying me never said much to my face—he just watched. Like I was a specimen. He saw the fights, the manipulation, the control games. But he never saw why I behaved that way. He didn't see the years of instability, fear, and emotional neglect that shaped me long before that diagnosis ever landed in my lap.

Some of us with ASPD grew up in chaos. Some were abused, some neglected, some abandoned. For many of us, emotions weren't safe to feel—let alone express. So we turned them off, one by one. Not because we wanted to—but because we had to.

That's what I mean by adaptation. We didn't choose this disorder like someone chooses a new pair of shoes. It chose us. Or maybe more accurately, life shaped us into it. And once it's there, it's not something you just "snap out of."

But that doesn't mean we're hopeless.

Despite what the textbooks say, people with ASPD aren't incapable of change. We're just not motivated by the same things as others. Fear of punishment doesn't always work. Guilt rarely shows up. But consequences we care about—like losing control, losing status, or losing something we do value—can shape behavior over time.

I'm not here to claim I'm a saint. I'm not. I've hurt people. I've lied. I've manipulated. I've pushed limits just to see how far they bend. But I'm also not a monster. I feel things—just not the same way you do. My emotions are quieter, colder sometimes, but they exist. I've felt loyalty. I've felt rage. I've felt pride. And maybe even something close to love—though I don't always trust that word.

The truth is, people like me walk among you every day. We have jobs. We date. We raise kids. Not all of us are violent. Not all of us are criminals. Many of us are just trying to find our place in a world that never quite fit us to begin with.

I'm writing this not to excuse the harm people with ASPD can cause. But to explain it. To humanize it. To say: look deeper. Behind the diagnosis is a person. Flawed, yes. But capable of reflection, growth, and even redemption.

So no—we're not heartless killers.

We're survivors of something we didn't choose.
We're people who learned to control instead of connect.
We adapted to survive.

And now some of us are learning how to live.