Appendix (part 7)

I wanted to include this quote in the book chapter about Mormonism, regarding the Mormon church's doctrine re different types of people (including neurodiversity), but it was too late to add to the manuscript. From LDS President Dieter F. Uchtdorf:

But while the Atonement is meant to help us all become more like Christ, it is not meant to make us all the same. Sometimes we confuse differences in personality with sin. We can even make the mistake of thinking that because someone is different from us, it must mean they are not pleasing to God. This line of thinking leads some to believe that the Church wants to create every member from a single mold—that each one should look, feel, think, and behave like every other. This would contradict the genius of God, who created every man different from his brother, every son different from his father. Even identical twins are not identical in their personalities and spiritual identities.

It also contradicts the intent and purpose of the Church of Jesus Christ, which acknowledges and protects the moral agency—with all its far-reaching consequences—of each and every one of God’s children. As disciples of Jesus Christ, we are united in our testimony of the restored gospel and our commitment to keep God’s commandments. But we are diverse in our cultural, social, and political preferences.

The Church thrives when we take advantage of this diversity and encourage each other to develop and use our talents to lift and strengthen our fellow disciples.

Book appendix (part 6)

Here's a section on information warfare that didn't fit anywhere in the book:


My dad’s need for control manifests itself in diverse ways.  We call one control game “information warfare.”  In this game, the goal is to try to disclose as little information as possible while not seeming to obviously evade the question.  For example:
Dad comes through the door in the middle of a workweek.

Me: “Hello?”
Silence.
I look up to see who it is, “Why are you here?”
Dad: “I have to be here, I’m sorry.”
Me: “Why?”
Dad: “I’m not good.”
Me: “You’re not feeling good, or you have been bad?”
Silence.
Me: “Well it’s good you’re here, we can get burritos for lunch.”
Dad: “I can’t do that but you can do that.”
Silence.
Me: “You’re not making any sense.”
Dad: “Why?”

The game is played all the time.  Like soccer, most of it is just little trade offs until my dad finds the right time to strike and make a “goal”.  A goal in this game is for him to get the other person to make a false conclusion based on incomplete and/or false or misleading information that he has been feeding them.

Brother: “Dad, are we going to refinance that rental property?”
Silence.
Brother: “Dad, I was talking to my realtor who says that if we refinance we might be able to get enough out for a down payment on another property.”
Silence.
Brother: “Apparently the rates are the lowest they’ve been all year.”
Days later.
Brother: “Dad, I filled out some paperwork for the bank to refinance that rental property.”
“You did what?!”
“We talked about this, my realtor thought we could get some extra money out and lock in a very low rate.”
“Stupid, stupid, stupid.”  Three stupids in my dad’s lexicon is almost like an epithet—you are very seriously stupid.  “That property is in a limited liability partnership!  Banks won’t refinance a property that’s in a limited liability partnership!”

And that’s how you score a goal.

Book appendix (part 5)

(cont. from interview with my mother):


Sometimes I feel guilty for it because I know I was gone, being on the stage and trying to figure out what would bring happiness in my life and I was gone way too much. I should have been home more and keeping tabs on things.  

I know you were always closed off, like affection.  You weren’t ever very affectionate, as far as hugging.  You were kind of closed off emotionally.  I don’t ever remember you crying.  Instead of you being sad, you usually chose to be angry.  That was your emotion of choice.  It seems like when you got angry, you would just get in someone’s face verbally and then you would try to get that person to have their own emotional explosion.  I remember you would try to push dad’s buttons and get him to get really mad.  It’s almost like you liked the emotional turmoil of anger and every now and then you would feed into that and make it happen.  Then things would calm down, until they would build up again.  But I don’t know. Dad was like that too.  But it seemed like you and he butted heads a lot.  I don't remember you ever being sad or hurt.  Even when you were in the hospital with the physical hurt, you weren’t crying or sad.  You know, like a normal person would do.  Especially girl.  You know teenage girls, they would cry over stuff, be hurt or have their feelings hurt.  I don’t remember you ever being like that.  So you were definitely not the typical teenage girl.  I think that’s why you didn’t have a lot of teenage girl friends. Most of your friends were boys, maybe because you related to them a lot more.  Boys aren’t very emotional, they’re more thinking.   

I think you have a little ADD.  It’s hard for you to focus on one thing at a time.  You have to be doing like 3 things at once, even in church you’ll be doing multiple things.  You can’t focus on one thing at a time, or at least not for very long.  But I also think you’re always just thinking about things and wondering about things, so something will catch your interest and you’ll want to explore that.  You’re kind of an explorer type of personality; you like to explore new and different things.

In the way that you did far more and went far more than any of the other kids, that was a little bit of a surprise because I don’t think it was anything normal. You were like super child, going out and doing things far beyond what was expected.

I don’t think you’re trying to corrupt people, but I think you like to do things for shock value—just throw things out there and see how they land, see how they would fly. So I think I was a little uncomfortable with your influence over your younger siblings. I think you’re influential. Sometimes I see the whole family bending to what you want to do and I think we have set you or accepted you in that role of figuring out what we want to do or how we are going to do it, and I think we enjoy that. And I don’t think you carry it too far either. I don’t think you’re too pushy about it. But you are definitely a natural born leader. I think that’s what makes you such a good teacher. I think you’re influential because you’re smart and determined and passionate about the things you want to do, and I think people tend to want to follow someone like that. I think the family follows you because we know you’re smart and efficient and you can figure out probably the best way of doing things and you have novel and fun ideas. You’re always full of ideas. And you’re always coming up with good ways of solving problems or making things happen smoothly.

I remember one time when I was super proud of you, singing this particular song I like. That was a proud moment because you were just up there saying I’m my own person, I don’t care what other people do to me, I’m going to live my life the way I want to.  And I was just proud of you for that.  I don’t think I’ve ever been that way.  I’m getting to be more and more that way, but I used to not be.  I used to be codependent, trying to manipulate people from the wings but never really voicing my opinion and saying what I wanted, what I needed.  I was always kind of in the shadows.  That’s why I liked the stage I think, because I could be somebody else, another person.  And I was good at it and people thought I was wonderful, so I think that’s why I kind of got addicted to the stage.  

I think the book is kind of cool.  I see it as another step in your healing and becoming more your own person.  Kind of dealing with all of the stuff that’s happened to you and figuring out who you really are.  I think the book is part of this process.  

Book appendix (part 1)

The book is officially out in North America. To celebrate, I thought I would share some source material that I collected to write the book. This is from an email from the friend who first mentioned the word "sociopath" to me:

I remember when you first walked in the office we shared.  Weren't you wearing flipflops?  I was trying to counsel you on how to behave yourself around the office.    And you gave me my own Book of Mormon with highlighted passages!  We talked religion and ethics a lot at first.  Once I found out you had some attraction for the ladies, we started talking about our personal lives. 

So, as far as my arm-chair sociopath diagnosis goes, I remember the following things:
(1) I would exercise my charm on people around the office, including our boss.  (What was her name? I can't remember anymore.)  You would observe me do this and comment on it. Like, complimentary comments.  I thought about that and the way you watched me, as if you were analyzing the interactions.  It reminded me of the way another sociopath friend would analyze how I interacted with people and try to integrate it into his repertoire.  But you had charms of your own, of course.
(2) Your penchant for law and economics and how we would argue about the lack of humanity in the system.  I remember I told you the story of my first-year law school class and how our teacher asked how we might assign ownership of property besides "first-in-time."  People suggested things like first-in-merit, a lottery, etc.  I raised my hands and suggested "first-in-need."  Everyone stared at me and the prof didn't even write it on the board!  When I told you the story, you gave me a look like you couldn't imagine why an intelligent person like me would say something like that . . .
(3) Your attitude toward law school and your job was so . . . emotionally detached.  I don't know exactly how to explain this.  There are a lot of people who go to law school or take jobs as stepping stones to something else, not because they see inherent value or want to help people, etc.  But you were outside of that, even.  You achieved almost effortlessly and didn't seem the least bit anxious about your performance.  It didn't seem like your self esteem hinged on your success--it was easy for you, because you weren't scared the way most of us were.  I didn't see you in action in law school, of course, but you would talk about it and this struck me as interesting.  I was a little envious of your detachment.
(4) You took me to church with you.  And to some anti-sex education class afterward (at the church).  I could see that you had very little, if any, investment in any of what was really being taught.  You claimed to be a Mormon, but it seemed skin-deep to me.  Like you were playing a role you had been assigned and decided to go along with.  I remember thinking: "She doesn't believe any of this; her world-view comes from a completely different place and it's just easier to try to fit in."
(4) You would flirt with me,  a little, but I didn't get the impression that there was any actual feeling behind it, other than that you liked me, found me somewhat interesting and perhaps useful for bouncing ideas off, etc.  I could see myself being attracted to you, but sensed--at some level--that there was something different about you.  I flirted with you back, but not a lot. Just enough to intuit that I could get hurt if I actually let myself develop feelings for you.  (QUEUE FLASHING WARNING LIGHTS!)  My intuition prevented me somehow, even though you were highly attractive.
(5) It was the end of the summer before I finally said the word "sociopath" to you outloud.  You and I were hanging out together outside of work by this point.  I remember you were driving me around town.  It might have been the same day you took me to visit your family. In any case, we were walking outside somewhere and I remember you telling me a story about someone--someone who had been going through something difficult.  You said something like, "I don't know how to react in those types of situations.  I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say or feel."  Now any empath could say something like, given a strange situation--a situation they had never experienced before.  But given all I knew about you and the situation you described (which I can no longer remember), it sort of hit me in a "lightbulb" moment.  I think I said to you, "M.E., have you ever considered that you might be a sociopath?"  I think I explained a little about what I meant, trying not to offend you.  You didn't seem offended at all, but just thoughtful for a minute or two.  I probably explained a little about my sociopath friend and my experience with him.  Maybe you remember more about this than I do.