I just finished watching Monsters Inside: the 24 Faces of Billy Milligan on Netflix this week. It set my brain on fire about Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID) (previously called Multiple Personality Disorder).
For there to be a disorder so distinctive that a large portion of psychologists are skeptical exists is fascinating.
My mother had a friend who was diagnosed with DID. Maybe you or someone you know has been diagnosed as well. It's hard to deny the reality of it when you witness the switch of personalities first hand.
My mother's friend was a victim of horrible cruelty when she was a very young child, and the result of the trauma was, apparently, the split. Certain events would trigger her, and then - boom. Enter new personality.
All of the personalities we ever saw were harmless. One was a fifteen-year-old boy, and when he would come around, her children would need to find alternate rides to places because she was no longer old enough to drive.
So, from that experience, I'm strongly inclined to believe it exists. If it doesn't exist, what the hell was all that?
And then there's this strange bit: instances of DID cropped up in large numbers in the seventies, eighties, and even into the nineties, and then they just sort of disappeared.
That fact makes it seem more like a social construct. An illness of suggestion. A clinical fad, even.
But that doesn't square with my mother's friend. The timing does, but I wasn't looking at a woman participating in a fad. I was looking at a broken woman who tried her best not to suffer in that way.
In the documentary Crazy, Not Insane, we chip away at this even further, mostly with regard to killers who are diagnosed with MPD (now DID). The theory presented is that essentially every serial killer suffers from DID. That element of "he seemed so normal" or "he could never do that" that we always hear could be explained away like that, at least. Maybe his core personality was normal or gentle.
Or maybe the common element of these serial killers is psychopathy, not dissociation. Psychopaths are happy to lie, and the DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) isn't hard to get ahold of. Sure, blame your acts on an evil alter personality. That's a sure-fire way to offload your responsibility. Yes, it's still a part of you that did it, but it's not your fault, right? You can't help your (faked) disorder.
This seems like the most sensical explanation to me when it comes to people who kill for sport. And if DID does exist, faking as if you have it to gain sympathy and avoid consequences is even worse.
So, how do we ever come to a conclusion about all of this?
No, really, I would love to know. If you have an idea, please pass it along. I'll just be chewing on it in the meantime.
10 Best True Crime Shows to Look Inside the Mind of a Killer
Most true crime fans aren’t in it for the gore. They’re usually in it despite the gore. What’s the appeal, then? For me, it’s the psychology.
What makes someone feel justified in ending another person’s life? I’m not talking about in self-defense—we all understand that.
What justifications and beliefs go into a cold-blooded murder, particularly a premeditated one?
Not all true crime shows dig into this extensively or even at all. But if you like getting into the mind of a murderer, these 10 shows are must-sees for you.
I Am a Killer (Netflix)
This series is a crash course in killer psychology. With each episode interviewing a different convicted killer, you get a sampling of the various explanations and justifications for taking a life. The most interesting part? Figuring out who is being honest and who is bullshitting for the sake of leniency.
I also love this show because of the patterns and motifs that arise from this much data. Rough childhood, sexual abuse, bleak prospects for the future—after hearing the same story over and over again, you might even find yourself feeling unexpectedly sympathetic toward the inmates, and that’s no small feat for a show on this topic.
Dream/Killer (Netflix)
Think you understand the human brain? This documentary will stretch your understanding of it. A reporter is murdered, and the one who’s fingered for the crime thinks he had a dream about it happening, but that’s it. This one is a windy road of forced confessions, framing, and a dad who seeks justice for his boy. And the biggest win of it all: it includes everyone’s favorite wrongful conviction lawyer from Making a Murderer Season 2: Kathleen Zellner.
The Jinx (HBO)
What a wild ride this one is. With extensive interviews with the accused killer himself, you get a clear view into the mind of Robert Durst, loser son of a real estate mogul. Every so often, the universe treats us to a little bit of true crime that leaves our mouths hanging open, and The Jinx is one of those times. The investigation is a mess, the criminals are often too stupid to live, and the fact that anyone got away with anything is hardly more than a stroke of unbelievable luck. I won’t say more about this one other than it caused my husband and me to holler, gasp, and run confused circles around our living room while we watched. Don’t miss the last episode.
The Confessions Killer (Netflix)
Not only does this one give you insight into the psychology of a killer, it exposes how the desperation of well-meaning law enforcement to get justice for their victims can lead to a grade-A clusterfuck. Henry Lee Lucas, the accused serial killer, does plenty of talking in this one. He talks and talks and talks, admitting to hundreds of murders and playing on the hopes and confirmation bias of the detectives, sheriffs, and rangers who come to him looking for answers. Why would someone admit to hundreds of murders? You’ll have to watch this show and figure it out.
The Bundy Tapes (Netflix)
Ted Bundy is the go-to serial killer in the American public’s consciousness. Those uninitiated to true crime will give you his name first when you ask them to name a serial killer. They might not know anyone else, but they know Bundy. This series goes even deeper into his life, including facts about the case I’d never heard before. Listening to Bundy’s thoughts in his own words is truly chilling. Boy, is he a complete liar and sociopath. There are plenty of things we’ll never know about this man, but reading between the lines in this documentary might be as close as we’ll get…
Crazy, Not Insane (HBO)
…or will it? Among the cold-blooded killers Dr. Dorothy Otnow Lewis interviewed in her storied career, the most notorious was Ted Bundy himself. Bundy was viewed for a long time as an anomaly due to his claim that he came from a stable family and suffered no abuse as a child. This documentary presents the most elegant solution to that conundrum: Bundy was lying. Perhaps the most interesting hypothesis put forward by this documentary that follows Dr. Lewis’s many interviews with killers is that multiple personality disorder (MPD) is behind most of the brutal slaying we hear about in the news. Could a disorder many psychologists still don’t acknowledge as real be what’s behind the violence? Take a peek into a killer’s mind through Dr. Lewis’s eyes and judge for yourself.
Killer Inside: Mind of Aaron Hernandez (Netflix)
It’s not every day that a celebrity is arrested for a double murder. Thankfully. With serious OJ Simpson vibes running throughout, this documentary digs into the double life of Aaron Hernandez. It’s always interesting when the friends and family are split between, “He was the nicest guy ever,” and “I can see him doing this.” Either way, you get to watch a young man’s ascent in into the spotlight… while harboring a secret that was clearly eating him up. Ultimately a tragedy, this series will leave you with plenty to think about.
Into the Abyss (Netflix)
It’s always a treat when the legendary documentary filmmaker Werner Herzog decides to tackle a complicated subject. Focusing on a triple homicide in my home state of Texas—notorious for a liberal and proud use of the death penalty—Herzog interviews the two boys (now men) convicted of the slayings, as well as the families of the victims. Are we getting the truth from the killers? Will state-sanctioned murder bring those hurting the peace they seek? What really sets this documentary apart is the outsider view Herzog, a German, brings to a subject as complicated and American as capital punishment. No oversimplification to this one, folks. Get ready for messy emotions.
Nail Bomber: Manhunt (Netflix)
This show follows a different kind of killer, a more impersonal one, and because of that, it creates an interesting contrast to the others on this list. The nail bomber’s is a variety of hate that Americans like me are much more familiar with: white supremacy justifying death on a large scale. No intimate violence when you’re dealing with a bomber, which means the psychology behind it is completely different. The motivation differs. But there are some fascinating similarities in attitude between the nail bomber and many of the serial killers you’ve read all about. And you get to hear all about it through the bombers own letters.
Sophie: A Murder in West Cork (Netflix)
As far as true crime can be humorous, this one is. At least I thought so. When you first see the person who (it’s later revealed) is the alleged murderer, he’s not presented as such, and yet, I found myself saying, “That guy looks like a fucking serial killer.” The murder is almost secondary to the real story here of how someone who so clearly murdered a woman got away with it. You’ll hear plenty from the killer himself… only you won’t know it’s him until later on. If you’ve been studying your killer psychology, you should have no problem fingering the perp before the evidence is all laid out.
Is there one that I missed that should have been on the list? Drop me a comment to let me know.
Fascinated by the Unusual
It’s well-known Feeney family lore that I had strange viewing tastes as a child. Yes, I watched the typical Nickelodeon shows like kids my age, but I had other must-watch shows whenever I could catch them.
I was obsessed with World’s Strongest Man competitions, for instance. Despite being a bit of a tomboy (that’s what people were obligated to call girls who didn’t adhere to strict and arbitrary gender norms (i.e. didn’t like pink and did like sports)), the idea of a string-bean eight-year-old staring transfixed at the living embodiment of steroids as they lugged the Atlas stone around is something you’re allowed to chuckle at. It was an odd fascination.
Guinness World Records Primetime was another show I loved, despite the host, Cris Collinsworth (yes, the same one who routinely ruins NFL games with his obnoxious color commentary).
By the time Ripley’s Believe It or Not! was revived in 2000, I was in my teens but no less excited to watch Dean Cain show me freakish stuff without the proper cultural context.
(Side note: Does anyone else feel the need to say, “Is that Dean Cain?” every time he shows up somewhere. It’s always a surprise to me.)
Dateline was another show I would absorb into my developing brain whenever my parents weren’t around to put a stop to it. Murder, missing women, killer women, or just serial killers in general didn’t freak me out as much as intrigue me. Aware even then that this was not normal, I kept it to myself.
I didn’t get hooked on ghost hunting shows until later. All we really had in the nineties was the occasional local news segment or 20/20 story about the topic—all of which I soaked up—until Discovery Channel and Travel Channel got into the game.
At that point, I went in hard for Ghost Adventures. I think I’ve seen every episode up through season 19. (Too many demons now; it’s obnoxious.)
There’s a theme across all these preferences of mine from an early age, and no, it’s not an expression of sociopathy on my part. But I do love reading about the subject.
The theme is the fringe, the strange, the socially unacceptable. The freakish. Things, in short, that Ripley himself might not believe.
I like alarming things, not because I wish to participate in them, but because I wish to understand them. I’ve never been able to step away from an unsolved puzzle. (Hence why Unsolved Mysteries is also on my list of favorites. Just hearing the theme music on the recent reboot filled me with nostalgic joy. I have a special dance for it, which my husband just loves, but not as much as he loves me singing along while I do it.)
When something seems beyond belief (Beyond Belief was another fantastic show), my mind latches onto it until I can make sense of it. I need to know how to file it away. Resolution is required before I can move on.
Things have changed since those early days, though. I’ve learned a truth or two.
The strong men were on steroids.
Guinness World Records are often rigged and don’t usually mean anything.
Ripley’s Believe It or Not! is a racist shitshow that presents anything that’s not Western as “Other” in an attempt to justify pillaging and territorial occupation.
And ghost shows are fake.
In short, I’ve grown cynical. But I frequently remind people: “I’m cynical, but I’m not wrong.”
So, as all those external sources of intrigue fall away, there’s been one that hasn’t: crime.
Outside of imminent threat, what makes someone take another life? What beliefs do men hold that make them so much more likely to kill than women? How does society impact that grim decision? How do so many people claim, “He would never do that!” when, oh yes, he would and he did?
These are the puzzles that still hold my attention. The puzzles of society and humanity, of sociology and psychology, of trauma and victimization.
It’s convenient, then, that I’m married to someone in law enforcement. This wasn’t intentional. I’m not a badge bunny. In fact, I never would’ve intentionally fallen in love with a cop. I’m a fiction writer, for fuck’s sake! I have a liberal arts degree! When we met, he was an unemployed hipster, and that was way more my style. Then he sprang it on me that he wanted to apply to the Austin Police Department. Yikes. But fine. I was in love, and the job came with health benefits and a salary.
Turns out, we’re a good fit for his career choice. He has deep empathy and compassion for everyone, and I … don’t always. He de-escalates the situations and then comes home and can tell me all about them without it getting to me.
Those stories are daily puzzles for me to chew on. I try to build formulas to explain it—emotions, environment, cognitive ability, time of day, substances, cultural beliefs, personal beliefs, social history, and trauma are all variables to include.
I don’t know why I need to know the answers to all these puzzles. But if the puzzles stopped, it would be hard to keep going each day. We crave solutions to life’s mysteries while knowing that continuing to have questions is as essential to humanity as clean air or fresh water. We gobble it up, hoping that we reach an end, that we find the very last piece to the puzzle… the one that will make the rest of our lives passionless and not worth living.
Is that why I write about serial killers? I don’t know. Yet.