Psychopath : Grief


Witnessing someone in the throes of grief has always presented a perplexing experience for me. It has never been easy to fathom the depths of sorrow that consume individuals when they lose someone dear to them. Yet, the human capacity for emotional expression continues to astound me.


In this particular instance, I find myself standing on the periphery of a heartrending scene. A person, consumed by anguish, their face contorted with pain, their eyes swollen with tears, is immersed in a sea of sorrow. They have suffered a profound loss, and their grief radiates through every fibre of their being. It is a display of vulnerability, a raw and unfiltered expression of pain that transcends any words that can be uttered.


From my detached vantage point, I observe their tears cascade down their cheeks, each drop a testament to the weight of their grief. I observe the tremors in their body, as if the very foundations of their existence have been shaken. Their sobs echo in the room, a haunting melody of despair that fills the emptiness with an overwhelming presence.


Yet, as I watch this spectacle, I find myself unable to fully grasp the magnitude of their sorrow. Empathy eludes me, as my psychopathy acts as an impenetrable shield against the emotional turmoil that envelops them. The tears that stream down their face seem foreign to me, an enigma I struggle to decipher. I am an outsider peering into a world of profound loss, and my inability to connect with their pain makes me seem like an intruder, but I know that it is central to my understanding of my prey to ensure I observe their responses.


In spite of this emotional disconnect, I cannot help but acknowledge the significance of their grief. For every tear they shed, there lies a multitude of memories, a tapestry of shared experiences, and an irreplaceable void left behind by the departed. It reminds me of the fragility of life, the ephemeral nature of  existence, and the indelible impact one person can have on another. It reinforces the necessity of my existence.


Though my psychopathy limits my ability to offer solace or consolation, I recognize the power of presence. In my silence, I stand witness to their sorrow, acknowledging the depth of their loss. I understand that sometimes, the greatest support that can be provided is simply being there, an anchor in the storm of their emotions. I have learned that from the others.


While I may not comprehend the nuances of their grief, I accept its existence as a fundamental aspect of theirhuman experience. Loss and mourning are intertwined in the intricate tapestry of life, and it is through these moments of despair that we discover the resilience of the human spirit or the weakness of most humans. As I continue to observe, I remain cognizant of the transformative power of grief and the potential for healing that so many see as lying within it.


Grief highlights the vast spectrum of human emotions and the depth of your capacity to love and mourn. Though my detachment prevents me from fully connecting with their sorrow, it does not diminish the significance of their grief and my understanding of the impact it has upon them and how, should I choose, I can use that understanding against the grief-stricken individual or utilize their experience elsewhere.


As I continue to observe, a sense of curiosity begins to stir within me. I find myself contemplating the nature of emotional detachment and its implications in the face of such intense sorrow. Is my detachment a shield that protects me from the overwhelming weight of grief, or is it a barrier that prevents me from truly understanding the depth of human emotion? It is neither for I do not experience grief, it is a hindrance, a weakness, it is absent with me.


In this moment of consideration, I realize that emotional detachment does not make me immune to the impact of loss; rather, it unveils the complexity of human emotion and the vast range of responses it elicits. While I may not experience the same depths of sorrow as the person before me, I bear witness to the intricacies of their grief, the nuances of their pain. It provides me with so much without any of the disadvantages experienced by feeling it.


As I delve deeper into this understanding, I question the origins of my emotional detachment. Is it a defense mechanism forged through personal experiences, or is it an inherent aspect of my temperament? Perhaps it is a combination of both. I have come to understand that emotional detachment does equate to a lack of empathy or compassion. It is a unique lens through which I navigate the world, allowing me to offer a different perspective, one that may be detached but not devoid of understanding.


In this moment, I recognize the importance of embracing diversity in emotional responses. Our individual experiences shape our reactions to loss, and there is no singular “right” way to grieve. Some may find solace in tears and cathartic release, while others, may seek solace in silence and contemplation. Both approaches are valid, although neither applies to me.


As the tears continue to flow, I become acutely aware of the transformative power of grief. It is through the process of mourning that you confront your own mortality, reevaluate your priorities, and find strength in the face of adversity. Loss becomes an agent of change, propelling you forward on a path of self-discovery and growth.


In this juncture, I realize that my role as an emotionally detached observer is not to impose my own emotional framework onto others, but rather to simply observe and utilize  their individual journey. I can offer support by acknowledging their pain, providing a space free of judgment, and extending a hand should I deem it advantageous to me. I know how, I have seen others do it and it is easy to copy.


While I may never fully comprehend the depths of their sorrow, I can still use what I have witnessed. The opportunities are numerous. The individual is weakened and vulnerable and exploitation may prove expedient. Then again, I may see value in creating the pretence of assurance and can offer a unique perspective that fosters introspection and encourages the bereaved to navigate their grief in a way that feels authentic to them.Again to my advantage. Alternatively, I shall simply acquire what I have witnessed, store it and use it to finesse my understanding of the way people grieve so it can prove useful to me at some future point.


Grief is an acute and deep reminder of the vast spectrum of human emotions and the diverse ways in whichyou process and navigate through grief. Emotional detachment does not diminish the significance of another’s pain; rather, it provides an alternative lens through which to understand.


I find grief curiously sickening. I am pleased I am not afflicted by this weakness yet I find seeing it in others entirely fascinating.


When I create it, my world explodes.

33 thoughts on “Psychopath : Grief

  1. FYC says:

    HG, Your psychopath series is beyond exceptional. I look forward to each entry and take my time to digest them. There is very little written from the psychopath’s perspective, and what I have been able to find is clearly not written by someone of your intelligence and self awareness. Thank you so much for sharing your invaluable experiences and views.

    1. HG Tudor says:

      You are most welcome FYC.

  2. lickemtomorrow says:

    That you can explain grief so succinctly and at the same time have no compunction to avoid unnecessary grief is harrowing.

    The depths reached in grief are sometimes impossible to fathom, yet you seek to create those depths as an element of entertainment.

    I’ve been impacted numerous times by the type of grief not just psychopaths but narcissists like to create. For the narcissist it provides fuel, for the psychopath entertainment, both relishing the sense of power inherent in someone else’s pain. It is not possible for an empath mind to comprehend how such devastation could be entertaining or fulfilling.

    Your insightful perspective on grief is marred by the lack of empathy inherent in the psychopath.

    It is hard to believe that such an intense emotion can not only be ‘unfelt’, but can be utilised to entertain or fuel. The idea is monstrous. As is the last sentence of this article.

    1. HG Tudor says:

      Thank you for sharing your response to this article, LET, I found it interesting.

      1. lickemtomorrow says:

        I’m finding it hard to hold back on these articles.

        In many ways they are devastating to contemplate.

        This one was so beautifully attuned to the experience of grief that it brought me back to that place – several places – where the sensation of having my heart ripped out nearly destroyed me. We often ascribe grief to death, but there are all kinds of ‘dying’ and they all deserve empathy and compassion. Robbing someone of their hopes and dreams incurs grief as much as a physical loss at times.

        You took me back to that place. It hurt my heart to go there.

        That you did it with ‘understanding’ was somewhat overwhelming.

        1. A Victor says:

          Hi LET,

          I had the same reaction to this. That old memory of my heart being stomped on. My ex was not a psychopath and when this happened, he had left, so likely didn’t even get much fuel from it. But it was the deepest grief I have felt, associated with the death of hope, the death of dreams. Horrible to experience.

          1. lickemtomorrow says:

            <3 <3 <3

            AV, grief/loss can be associated with so many things. I'm glad you shared.

            The most confronting thing is the psychopath or narcissist is immune to our suffering.

            To be so effectively shut off from other's pain is a frightening thing.

        2. Leigh says:

          I’m having difficulty with many of these articles also.. I’m struggling with Mr. Tudor’s “understanding” quite a bit. He’s used the word “study” in several of his recent articles.

          This article was so beautifully written. He really seemed attuned to what we’re feeling. Then, in the last line, he pushes us off the cliff.

          You’re not alone. The idea that he understands us is overwhelming for me as well. I’m almost feeling like a lab rat.

          1. lickemtomorrow says:

            Leigh, being pushed off a cliff is a good description for how it feels to be so thoroughly understood and then be subject to the callousness of the psychopath. It must come from that ability to study the victims and necessarily toy with them in order to work out the process for gutting them. The exposure of our vulnerabilities and the desire and ability to manipulate them for personal gain. I’m sure there is a great deal of insight to be gained here from our sharing and caring, although there must be an element of expectation that we will operate from the same playbook, much as we feel that way about the narcissist. What is really to be gained except the pleasure of our shock/horror at the insight into the psychopathic mind and how it affects us.

            I don’t know if that’s it, but I’m going to respond as I feel the need.

          2. Leigh says:

            “What is really to be gained except the pleasure of our shock/horror at the insight into the psychopathic mind and how it affects us.” – I had a similar thought. Are these articles meant to cause a reaction to help alleviate the boredom? Has he acquired enough of our character traits that he no longer needs to learn from us? If that’s so, what’s next? Everything is done to serve a purpose. What purpose do these articles serve?

          3. Contagious says:

            Hi Leigh! What really gets me is HGs intimate knowledge of empaths and in situations even rare situations. There was one I watched and I practically leapt out of my seat. I think I have seen it 10 times and I asked him HOW? His response “ because I am the Ultra.” I mean you expect an education and clarity in the mind of a narcissist or psychopath by someone who is one but how on earth can he understand an empath so well? Especially in rare meetings ? Rare occasions? HG is unique. I hope so! It is un-nerving.

          4. Leigh says:

            I agree, Contagious. The depths of how well Mr. Tudor understands empaths is both astonishing and unnerving. By studying us and our character traits, he has learned how we operate and how to use those character traits for himself. He really is a brilliant man.

        3. Rebecca says:

          Hi LET,

          Your comments resonated with me, I had some of the same thoughts about the article and how it brought me back to experiencing the grief I felt with LMRSOMATIC’s callous treatment at the end. I often wonder if narcissist treat people that way because, they, themselves can’t experience the depth of pain they cause their targets. Perhaps, if they could experience the depth of that pain, perhaps they wouldn’t seek to cause it. That thought haunts me, why else would a human being be capable of causing so much pain and know they’re willingly doing it with purpose.
          HG, with all his knowledge and intelligence, can only understand grief, but not experience it’s overwhelming pain and the feeling of your heart dying a slow death.
          Thanks for your comments here LET, I’ve been to that place too and I can honestly say, it’s hell on earth. Xx

          1. lickemtomorrow says:

            Rebecca, thank you for sharing your thoughts on this and I think the answer for the psychopath’s ability to cause the pain is in your statement about their inability to feel that pain. No one who has endured it would wish it upon another, at least for the most part, because it can be soul destroying. It takes a long time to pick up the pieces, if ever.

            It is hell on earth and one consolation is we are not alone xox

            That will be me takeaway from this thread.

          2. Alexissmith2016 says:

            Although somewhat different Rebecca, they do still experience wounding which can be pretty devastating for some Ns, i believe in particular the LMRs and MMRs who experience it more frequently and sometimes for lengthy periods. I’ve witnessed a work MMR suffer extensively. But the moment they bounce back, it’s game on again and they don’t care if we experience pain, as long as they don’t.

            I’ve come to understand the more you wound one, the more they need to try and get back at you to heal this wound. Then I guess it reaches a point where the wound is gone but they continue it for what they perceive as pleasure.

            I can’t imagine being that into what someone else is up to, to even care. But they cannot bear us to have a life without them, even when they don’t want us? Bizarre? It’s quite difficult even now to get my head around that. But then I think I’m the polar opposite in terms of stalking type behaviour as I’m not even interested enough to look at someone’s Facebook page. I prefer to just catch up with friends when I see them, otherwise you know too much already.

            The grief post N is awful and im so pleased you’re here. You will reach a point when you find all Ns dull and uninteresting because they all operate in the same way. It took me some time to get there Hahhah but finally I have. And now I just think ewwww you’re all the bloody same.

        4. Truthseeker6157 says:

          Hi LET,

          Something that struck me when reading this.


          “Has always presented a perplexing experience for me.”
          “An enigma I struggle to decipher.”
          “I find myself unable to fully grasp the magnitude.”
          “I am an outsider peering in.”
          “My inability to connect makes me seem like an intruder.”
          Is my detachment a shield or is it a barrier?”

          I think there is a degree of frustration here that runs along the lines of “I can’t do it!” You could view this as a feeling of isolation more than detachment. Someone who is never fully admitted to the group. I get the sense that the exploitation of grief is a little like putting a scratch down the side of a colleague’s new car. Not envy exactly, more frustration. HG is not used to being unable to do something. It’s a bit like a spoiling approach. “ I can’t experience it so I’ll ruin it. I’ll exploit it and rise above.”

          “I find grief curiously sickening.” Sounds similar to disgust. Disgust is a strong emotion, I’m not sure if HG experiences disgust in the same way as we do. If I was disgusted by someone I would find it far easier to hurt them. Thinking back to our discussion about people who harm children. That’s anger and disgust combined I think. Here we have frustration and disgust perhaps?

          HG understands grief intellectually but he can never understand it fully because he can’t feel it for himself. To my mind, understanding intellectually might actually be clearer in some ways. It can certainly facilitate looking at grief from additional angles that we might not always consider when drawing on our own personal experiences with grief.

          On the flip side, If I had never owned a dog and I had a friend whose dog died, I would never understand that loss as well as if I had lost my own dog and experienced that process myself. It’s estimation otherwise, I’d lack a true frame of reference. I think HG recognises that and is aware of being an outsider in that respect. Two ways you can go with that, bemoan it, or devalue the significance of emotions and convince yourself that they are a weakness.

          Psychopaths view emotions as weakness anyway because they hinder logic. There is an element of that here with HG but there’s also a hint of frustration about being on the periphery. It’s the periphery not the lack of emotion that likely frustrates I think.

          The being on the periphery, the detachment, is quite possibly the source of the boredom, so there has to be a degree of frustration because the boredom needs to be dealt with. It’s a daily sensation that logically, I assume he would prefer to be without.

          I’m at the ‘half thought’ stage with boredom and entertainment. I need to get my thoughts in better order there before I comment.

          I’m sorry some of these articles are taking you back to the dark days. I remember.


          1. lickemtomorrow says:

            TS, always happy to hear your thoughts and have an opportunity to reflect on them.

            The psychopath’s sense of being set apart seems to generate an element of sympathy for their predicament which I can understand. Being set apart could create a sense of isolation and frustration with a desire to spoil what they cannot have, I’m just not sure I would put grief in this category as a means of dealing with it. Anger or upset might be caused by the action you describe, but grief is an altogether different emotion. My sense is that when a psychopath causes grief it is a further method of toying with their victim and not necessarily motivated by any type of wounding. Rather it is used to derive pleasure from pain.

            I have to agree that a sense of disgust would cause a lack of concern for the feelings of others and probably an element of enjoyment in seeing them squirm. The idea of some types of people, as you suggest, fill us with disgust, so it’s not altogether impossible to imagine how we could enjoy seeing them squirm. The difference when it comes to the psychopath is that we have not committed any heinous kind of crime, but our mere mealy empathic existence is a high crime in their eyes.

            Your example of a friend losing their dog is a good example of how we experience emotions second hand as often it’s not possible to assume someone else’s grief in the circumstances, those experiences being different for everybody. I can only say when you told the story of having your own dog put down, I experienced that as if I was there and felt the emotion – grief – fully. It was overwhelming to take that into my imagination and it was as much how you told the story as how it must have felt to be in the situation. HG has narrated an explanation of grief that brought me back to that place. It’s impossible for me to understand how just by studying grief he can understand it so thoroughly and yet somehow be unable to feel it.

            I don’t know if that is a cause of frustration, forms a sense of isolation or simply creates a platform from which the psychopath can work their manipulations to alleviate their boredom while catering to their whims.

            Whatever it might be it still remains a little out of my reach, too, TS xox

  3. A Victor says:

    The first thought i had, from the first line, was, hmmm, I don’t witness proper in the throes of grief very often, in fact, hardly ever. Not enough to make a study of it certainly. And then i realized, this is part of the reason that there is a need to bring someone to a point of grief. Read through and, there it was, that last line.

    Good article, as always.

  4. Sweetest Perfection says:

    “For every tear they shed, there lies a multitude of memories, a tapestry of shared experiences, and an irreplaceable void left behind by the departed.”
    I had to see this in print. Printed.

    Why does your world explode when you are the cause of grief? Wouldn’t that pertain more to your narcissism than to your psychopathy? Please, help us understand that.

    1. HG Tudor says:

      Because it entertains me.

      1. Rebecca says:

        I think you mean explode in the way, that your pleasure increases to a intense degree as to seem to burst with pleasure. The grief you cause your IPPS is so intoxicating that it’s the best feeling for you, the most intense pleasure to experience, the tastiest dish. This is my interpretation of what you mean, am I right? Xx

        1. HG Tudor says:

          It is entertainment and the wielding of power.

          1. Sweetest Perfection says:

            Because they entertain you is related to psychopathy. Gotcha. Thank you so much.
            Your visual imagery, on the other hand, make my world explode.
            Thanks for that too.

          2. HG Tudor says:

            That is correct SP

          3. Sweetest Perfection says:

            My WordPress allows me to like again. Isn’t that a sign from the stars above?

          4. Rebecca says:

            I get it, to make someone feel grief, it entertains you, makes you feel powerful and strong. I understand. I’ve felt grief from a narcs abuse before and I have to say, it is the worse feeling I ever felt before, almost unbearable. I got through it with the help of your work and your guidance. Thank you for both. Xx❤️❤️

          5. Rebecca says:

            Dear HG,
            I really enjoy this new series. I’m fascinated by how you see the world and human emotions, it still amazes me that you don’t feel everything I feel emotionally, but it’s why I find you so fascinating, you’re so different from me. I enjoy getting to see through your eyes, it’s very educational and I just want to know more and more. I wish I could pick your brain more. Xx

          6. Rebecca says:

            I remember how LMRSOMATIC seemed to gloat and really enjoy my tears and pain, with his smirk and laugh ringing in my ears. He definitely had a sadist streak, he enjoyed being the cause of my pain and torment. Of course, it’s easier to cause pain and grief, when one can’t feel what it feels like to experience it themselves. If they could feel it, would they still cause it?? I wonder, if it would matter. Xx

  5. Anna Plyance says:

    This is what a “punchline” should be. Very powerful and beautifully crafted, HG.
    At first, I wanted to say that you are not missing out on much without grief. But it is an integral part of our emotional spectrum. Take it away and the whole range of emotions becomes unbalanced, the median shifts towards happiness and consequently, without the lowest low, the highest high is not as high anymore. Grief, though generally unwelcome, is the black that provides contrast and lets us appreciate the white times all the more. Unfortunately we are often given the message that grief is somehow unhealthy and in need of being treated or hidden instead of a normal reaction to loss. I would not necessarily want to call it a weakness, but it definitely has a different quality than other emotions.

  6. Dani says:

    Mr. Tudor–

    The series about your psychopathy has been intriguing, and I’m enjoying it. Looking forward to whatever topic you share with us next.

    1. Is grief fascinating for all psychopaths or just those with higher executive functioning?
    2. Have you ever feigned grief over the loss of a relationship or life of someone others would judge it appropriate for you to grieve?
    3. Your final sentence…”When I create it, my world explodes.”…is this related strongly to your narcissism?
    4. Do you find all five traditional stages of grief equally explosive or are there preferred stages when you “create it?”
    5. When your IPPS enters the sustained devaluation…does causing them to grieve the loss of the person they thought you were become one of your goals?
    6. After disengagement, do you watch them/have them watched to observe grief?

    Thank you so much for your time. I greatly appreciate it. And happy birthday in the near(ish) future.

    1. HG Tudor says:

      1. Not for all.
      2. Yes, but not to the extent of crying or wailing, simply the expression of loss.

      3. It can be, but not in this context.
      4. All are interesting.
      5. Yes.
      6. I have done so.

  7. MB says:

    This series is brilliant. Happy blog anniversary! And more importantly, Happy Birthday HG! 🎉

    1. HG Tudor says:

      Thank you MB.

Vent Your Spleen! (Please see the Rules in Formal Info)

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.