There’s a line in the original Jurassic Park movie that has always stuck with me. It’s from a scene near the beginning. A cartoon character, Mr. DNA, is explaining to Laura Dern and Jeff Goldblum how the park was able to clone the dinosaurs despite not having all of the DNA required to do it.

Sociopath: A Memoir book coverThe DNA is old and, “It’s full of holes,” the cartoon explains. “So we used the complete DNA of a frog to fill the holes and complete the codes. And now, we can make a baby dinosaur!”

While technically he’s correct, things obviously don’t go as planned because the frog DNA mutates, the clone-dinosaurs start procreating, and then they escape and start killing everybody.

Anyway, this explanation has always stuck with me. It’s the perfect analogy for something I do all the time when I come across a friend who is almost perfect but not completely: I cheat the result.

As a 30-something high functioning sociopath, I am always on the lookout for others like me. Sure, I have lots of great “normal” friends but sometimes I just want to hang out with a like-minded mate: someone who sees the angles, understands the struggle and feels, well, nothing.

I know: The mind reels with compassion. Who isn’t looking for a friend like that?? Well, apparently lots of people because the search can get pretty desperate.

As a 30-something high functioning sociopath, I am always on the lookout for others like me.

While everyone else is doing all they can to avoid sociopathic friends, I’m doing all I can to find them.

I’m like the lost baby in the children’s book Are You My Mother? Except instead of a duckling with a brave heart in search of its mommy, I’m an antisocial outlier with a limited emotional range and penchant for lying looking for a sidekick.

Believe it or not, these people are hard to find. Trust me, I’ve looked. That’s why prior to meeting my sociopathic soul mates, I did more than my share of cheating results. After years of being on my own, I would get desperate for a like mind and start slowly lowering the bar.

I would meet someone who came close to fitting the bill, ignore any evidence to the contrary, and then try not to stab him when he would break down crying about his history with approval-seeking behavior fifteen minutes after we got to the abandoned asylum.

Everything – even misery – loves company.

I think everyone is guilty of this. Everything – even misery – loves company. And when the strength to hold out for perfection is gone, the Jurassic Park scientist kicks in. You meet someone, you like 95 percent of what they’ve got to offer, so you use your own version of frog DNA to fill in the gaps. Then you sit back and hope they don’t kill you.

The point is this: The struggle is real regardless of whether you’re a sociopath. And while most people are reading online articles on how to avoid sociopaths, I’m writing ones so that they don’t. Because everyone is looking for a buddy. And let’s be honest: that frog DNA didn’t make a bit of difference. Those dinosaurs were going to kill everyone no matter what.