Obsessive Compulsive Disorder

The older I get, the more my obsession with efficiency and decisionmaking provokes me to behave in quirky ways, giving me every appearance of suffering from obsessive compulsive disorder (emphasis on compulsion).

Every month or two I make a small trek to a warehouse store. At the store I buy the same approximately 20 items in various quantities (small amounts of hummus, large amounts of palm hearts). I eat these items in a particular order, prioritizing the fresh fruits and vegetables in order of their spoilage, shifting then to baked goods that have a slightly longer shelf life, and finally to canned and frozen foods until I am able to make another trip to start the cycle over again.

My approach to shopping at the warehouse store is a ritualistic self-indulgence of the extremes of my desire to control. Because I am never sure what fresh fruits and vegetables will be available, I start there (what I am able to acquire in fresh fruits may alter slightly my choices in the frozen foods section, and finally in the dry and canned goods section). Even though I have a list and even though I buy nearly identical items at each trip, I still spend approximately 2-3 minutes with each item, even more for produce. I look at the quality, looking for flaws, looking at spoilage dates, comparing the item I selected with other identical items to determine slight variations. I do this carefully and methodically, trying to remain focused as my body suffers through the artificial chill of the produce section’s walk-in refrigerator. I then do the same for each other type of food, frozen foods, dry and canned goods, as well as any paper goods. I walk fastidiously through each aisle, paranoid that I will neglect some forgotten need and have to go without for another month or two.

As I stand in line to pay for my purchases, I sometimes smile at the odd picture the bizarre array of foods makes, each one of them a carefully chosen trade-off between convenience and nutrition, taste and perishability, versatility and diversity. Are people more likely to believe that I am throwing a theme party (assorted beverages and ethnic foods) or that I have Asperger’s (16 jars of palm hearts)?

But after years of this self-indulgence I can’t go to a normal grocer’s anymore; at least I can’t go and feel satisfied about the experience. My datamining mind chokes on the sheer amount of data involved for choosing each item: the unknowns (taste, quality, perishability, nutrition, price, etc.) multiplied by the number of options. People say “a whole aisle of bread,” like it is a good thing, but to me it is horror.

The last time I went to a grocery store was a whim—I needed to kill time waiting for an appointment so I thought I would buy rye bread because I love it and my warehouse store does not stock it. When I walked into the bread aisle, I was aghast. There were 8 different types of rye bread. I looked at each one, comparing the descriptions of taste, comparing the color and feel, comparing the nutritional information and the ingredients list. After 20 minutes and about to become paralyzed with indecision, I picked one loaf of each—all 8 different types of rye bread. (I am still eating rye bread from that trip, the loaves suffering serious freezer burn.)

And that is why I like to shop at the warehouse store. There are not 100 different types of bread, there are 5. There are not 20 different types of yogurt, there are three. There are only two types of bacon, regular and turkey, and only one type of egg whites in tetrapak. Going to the warehouse store is a satisfying experience in which I am quite certain that I can make the best possible choices given my options. Given my love/hate relationship with food and my particular dietary needs, I avoid going to a large grocery store for the same reasons I avoid going to a used car lot .

UPDATE: Interestingly, James Fallon said that he was at one point diagnosed with both an anxiety disorder and OCD. 

Responses to a hypothetical

Ok, we had a good split of responses from the hypothetical. There were 60 total. Approximately 29 people identified as sociopathic. Of those 29, six were diagnosed. Only 16 total people total were diagnosed with anything, including sociopathy. If you're curious to see all the responses, here's a link (there are 9000 total words).

My response to the hypothetical was that if extreme pain was an issue, we should pair up empaths with each other. If it is true that they feel each others' pain and find it painful themselves to inflict pain, then when an empath smashes another empath's fingers smashed with a hammer, that should be a twofer in terms of amount of pain juice. So my main thought was, given that we are in this situation, we should handle the task in the most efficient way possible.

I gave the hypothetical to me extreme empath friend. She suggested that she just wouldn't play. She would spend that time trying to find a way out or just die because she didn't think it was likely that we would be released after the fluid was collected anyway. Interestingly, she has always bucked what most people (including me) would just accept as their lot. For instance, as a child she refused to go to Kindergarten until her father started bribing her with coffee.

Her neurotypical significant other said that he would lock himself up in a room and just hope to avoid anybody, maybe even take a nap because that's how he deals with stress.

Using those three responses and what I predicted would be a fourth, I came up with four categories of responses: (1) cooperative (main goal is figuring a way to get it done, not necessarily to hurt people), (2) opposition (active resistance, (3) avoidance (passive resistance or noncompliance), and (4) sadism (primarily concerned with hurting people). I coded the responses accordingly (see document linked above).

Perhaps people who read this blog won't be surprised, but the large majority of sociopaths chose cooperating. As one person put it, once they heard the rules of the game they became "task-oriented." Why is this? I'm not entirely sure, but when presented with a game like this, sociopaths (high-functioning?) seem less likely to challenge the underlying assumption and more likely to find a way to game the system from the inside. As long as I'm pretty sure the game isn't rigged I'm most likely to play by the rules (and do it better than anyone else by being creative) than to completely subvert them. For instance, in my younger days I would scam people all of the time but didn't tend to outright steal from them.

Cooperative sociopaths were either coldly rationale about getting the job done or were trying to game the inherent weaknesses of the set-up. Interestingly while sociopaths seemed intent on trying to game the system, they were also concerned with the noncompliance of others and how they might try to enforce compliance. They treated the exercise as if it was a game of Diplomacy, tending to advocate for a more regimented and organized approach with due care to isolate the victims and rabblerousers lest their fear, panic, or rebellion spread. (Prompted by a fear of mob mentality? Desire to keep control of the group?)  While the cooperative sociopaths were concerned with emotions and psychological states to the extent they predicted individual behavior, the sociopaths were not concerned with minimizing psychological or emotional scarring, only physical (and they were oddly concerned about that).

In comparison, non-sociopaths who selected cooperation were often concerned about minimizing pain overall, and even emotional pain. Some were worried about minimizing their own pain or maximizing their own chances of survival. Some were primarily concerned with keeping some measure of at least an illusion of control over the situation, or at least being creative with the solutions to the problem.

Interestingly, most of the non-sociopaths answered both questions (how would you feel and what would you do), whereas far fewer sociopaths bothered to answer how they would feel. Even if the sociopath did address how he would feel, it was often in terms of non-emotional reactions, e.g. being impressed, sighing at the bad luck, or just being angry or frustrated.

More interesting still, when asked to imagine the reactions of their "opposites." sociopaths were most likely to focus on their emotions as opposed to what they would do. In contrast, non-sociopaths focused on what the opposites would do, not what they would feel. This suggests that sociopaths tend to see non-sociopaths in terms of their emotional reactions and non-sociopaths see sociopaths in terms of their actions.

Sociopaths also tended to see empath reactions more in terms of group dynamics (e.g., the sociopath would try to predict how they would act as a group), whereas non-sociopaths imagined sociopaths as operating as more of a lone wolf. Again, this is probably true to life -- statistically this situation would have only 1 or 2 sociopaths and the main thrust of the group dynamic would be from non-sociopaths.

I was pleased to see that empaths (at least the ones who visit this site) didn't assume that sociopaths would be uniformly sadistic. Rather, most of them correctly predicted that sociopaths would be rational and efficient (only two sociopaths were coded as sadistic, the other two sadistic responders were BPD and narcissism).

My favorite response about what your opposite might do was from an aspie: "I honestly have little idea."

Thanks for participating!

Anti-authoritarian

A reader sent me this interesting article discussing how most of the individuals diagnosed with "antisocial" disorders, including oppositional defiant disorder, attention deficit hyperactive disorder, anxiety disorder, also happen to be anti-authoritarian.  The argument the author makes is essentially that the psychology professionals doing the diagnosing may overly value submissive attitudes based on their own path towards becoming credentialed:


Gaining acceptance into graduate school or medical school and achieving a PhD or MD and becoming a psychologist or psychiatrist means jumping through many hoops, all of which require much behavioral and attentional compliance to authorities, even to those authorities that one lacks respect for. The selection and socialization of mental health professionals tends to breed out many anti-authoritarians. Having steered the higher-education terrain for a decade of my life, I know that degrees and credentials are primarily badges of compliance. Those with extended schooling have lived for many years in a world where one routinely conforms to the demands of authorities. Thus for many MDs and PhDs, people different from them who reject this attentional and behavioral compliance appear to be from another world—a diagnosable one.

I have found that most psychologists, psychiatrists, and other mental health professionals are not only extraordinarily compliant with authorities but also unaware of the magnitude of their obedience. And it also has become clear to me that the anti-authoritarianism of their patients creates enormous anxiety for these professionals, and their anxiety fuels diagnoses and treatments.

I agree completely about the credentialing process.  I have even noticed the slightest tendency amongst sociopaths to sort of reify credentials into something that actually means something.  I don't know why they do this.  Maybe for the same reason I follow traffic laws?  It's just often easier to follow things that you may or may not understand...?

The only F word that I would hate to be called is fascist.