"I knew I was different when I was a child..."

I thought this comment posted here on July 7, 2013 at 9:42 AM was a good compliment to the recent posts on being told you're a sociopath:

I absolutely knew I was different when I was a child. My parents and all the "adults" I knew were emotional beings. I could not understand why they were so dramatic. I could not understand why they yelled, hugged, cried and talked about their feelings. It was bizarre to witness and I could not relate. Nor could I relate to my emotional siblings and classmates.

As an adult, I have to remind myself to hug my relatives when I see them or else they get quite cross. I comply to avoid their sad eyes, questions, and messy emotions.

I was strong willed as a child and learned to be deceptive to avoid punishment. And, of course, for the thrill of having "pulled one over" on authority figures.

I was always the schemer and the ring leader in pranks. I reveled in my ability to shock and bother others. I was always the calm, calculating one of the group. To this day, I never panic. I don't worry about social norms. Nor will I have them forced upon me by people I couldn't care less about.

Granted, there are places where I am no longer welcome. I guess those people never got the joke. Just because I thought it was funny doesn't mean they did.

I've been told by others that I am a cold person but I disagree. I can feel some emotions but usually think they are a waste of time. Who wants to float in an emotional cloud? I just want to have fun. I am the life of the party. I am a thrill seeker. Is there anything wrong with that as long as I do not physically harm others?

I learned at 2 years old not to harm things. I caught a butterfly and wanted to kill it, so I did. I stuffed it in a soda bottle and filled it with water. I watched it struggle and become still.

I didn't feel remorse about killing it but did regret that I would no longer be able to enjoy the beauty of its fluttering from flower to flower. For some reason, it seemed very important to me to remember that lesson and so I did. I may mess with your head and your heart but I will not physically harm you unless you attempt to harm me.

I had a boyfriend hit me, probably because he couldn't control me. Besides, I'm small in stature and seemed like an easy victory. I responded with a ferocity that alarmed him just enough to give me the advantage. I am very proud of the physical scars he bears from that encounter.

A message to empaths: Leave us alone and mind your own business. You cannot "fix" us and we do not desire your pity unless we can use it to our advantage. If engaged, we will win. We always do.

Cheers.

External vs. internal limitations

I try not to let my diagnosis of being a sociopath define me or change me. One of my friends told me, I think wisely, "I wish that you had never heard of the word sociopath, that you just lived your life without knowing that there was a label for what you are." Labels can be very limiting and I wouldn't want to ever be frozen, without making any effort to grow and develop as a person.

One of my favorite stories of not falling prey to percevied limitations involves the filming of the opening shot of Sunset Boulevard:

For the opening shot of William Holden floating face down in the swimming pool, Wilder wanted a shot from below that would show both the body and the police and photographers standing at the pool's edge.

They tried putting the camera in a waterproof case and putting it on the bottom of the pool, but the quality of the shot was not good. Then art director John Meehan had the idea of putting a mirror on the bottom of the pool. That didn't work either because the water created too much distortion. But Meehan reasoned that because cold water distorts less than warm water, if he could chill the water enough, they could manage. Although extremely uncomfortable for actor William Holden, they got the shot.

The thing is that if the artistic choice was up to Meehan, he probably would have never thought to do that shot because it wouldn't have been within the realm of possibilities for him. That's the problem with growing up -- the more we learn about the way the world works, the less original our thoughts. It was only Billy Wilder insisting that the shot be that way that made Meehan even bother to go through all possible solutions -- if only to prove to Wilder that it could not be done. But it could. And it is one of the most iconic images in all of film.

I often wonder what my personal limits are, if any. Mormons have a teaching that the purpose of life is that all things might fulfill the measure of their creation, people, animals, plants, planets, everything. Mormons also believe that God "created every man different from his brother" and that institutions thrive when "when we take advantage of this diversity and encourage each other to develop and use our talents to lift and strengthen." The basic idea is that we are to be our best selves, whatever that self happens to be. But could most people say with absolute certainty that they even know who their best self is? Where is the proper line drawn between realistic and loving self acceptance and a desire to be "good" in one's own opinion versus the opinions of those who love you? Sometimes I think to myself, God must have created me differently to fulfill a different purpose than other people. But could I really be more normal than I think? Could I grow a conscience? Or practice empathy enough to the point where I too can feel what others are feeling? If I self-identify as a sociopath who will always be flawed in certain ways with limited opportunity for change, would that be a self-fulfilling prophecy?

The hard way

I've realized recently that I go through cycles of liking to do things the easy way or the hard way. I almost quit music in secondary school (I wasn't particularly talented), but I ended up majoring in it at university because it was the most challenging thing that I could be doing at the time and I enjoyed the thought of turning a weakness into a strength. I eventually tired of the struggle so when I left music I chose law because I did well on the law school admission test, so I figured I was well suited for it. At that point in my life, I didn't want to bother with my weaknesses, only capitalize on my strengths. Since then I've alternated between focusing on either my weakness or strengths, maybe every few years or so.

Most understand the appeal of the easy way, but doing things the hard way has its own value (and Thoreau?). The Swedes understand this. Although most Swedes have access to some sort of cottage or summer home, many of these homes intentionally do not have indoor plumbing, an attempt to be closer to nature. I spent some time there with a friend and she much preferred cooking up a porridge on the side of the road with a camp stove, or a soup on the deck of a ferry, to anything remotely more convenient. Even though my visit was on the tail end of summer in the chilly Arctic Circle, she insisted that part of the experience of any trip was to sleep outside whenever possible. We would go days without using a normal toilet, much less shower. I was sometimes tempted to put my foot down and insist that we take advantage of modern amenities and conveniences for a change, but I didn't. And even though I have been on much more comfortable and more exotic trips, this one has remained my favorite I think largely because it required struggle. It required me to be resourceful and more actively engaged in every moment of the trip, whereas waking up in crisp hotel sheets and stumbling down the hall to a buffet breakfast required no thought at all. The former meant living every minute and the latter invited passivity and complacency, it's own sort of (worse) struggle.

When I first started writing the blog, it was in an effort to understand why my life seemed to self-destruct every few years. I thought maybe finding the reason why might keep it from happening again, but I seem to like to struggle. There's something rewarding about doing things the hard way, at least for now. And as artist Chuck Close said:

Get yourself in trouble. If you get yourself in trouble, you don’t have the answers. And if you don’t have the answers, your solution will more likely be personal because no one else’s solutions will seem appropriate. You’ll have to come up with your own. It's always wrong before it's right.” 

Survival of the fittest

A sociopath talks about teaching children empathy and growing up.

I went to catholic grade school. I remember being "taught" do unto others as you would have done unto you. I remember thinking I get it but what's that mean? When I was maybe 23, 24? I remember hearing the word empathy, or empathetic fools or something like that in a nirvana song and saying to myself hmmm, what's that mean? I looked it up. After further research I came along a short story on how to teach preschoolers empathy and so I began doing so with my daughter. But I also remember thinking damnit! Why didn't anyone teach me this when I was in grade school, could I have been different? It was nice to learn what the golden rule real REALLY means, to this day I can't say I believe or practice it (lol) I treat people close to me very good, I treat people I may need something from with my chraming gift giving self, I treat people I could careless about like just that, and the people close to me can see the quick switch flip, they say oh I see "you" coming oh no... They say the transition in persona's takes 2 mild agitations and I switch. Let's say like the incredible hulk, only cooler, and more able to communicate clearly. Because I then become brutally honest, far from charming, and very demanding. Its almost a shame. Its a decent skill, it should be valued.

[On the application of the law of the jungle or everyone is equal] I can't say I enjoyed here's your turn now... I became resentful of those terms almost like people should earn their places. When I was in gym class I was often picked by the teacher to be a captain then being able to choose my teammates, the teachers picked me because they saw me as a good sport who always picked the lousy players first so they didn't feel left out. And I would pick the crappiest volley players first, the shy awkward unpopular kids, but not to make them "feel" good... I did it for several reasons... 1st reason: dorky kids, bad at sports probably smart, I could probably use an ally in my AP chem class or in case I found myself in a situation where having these ppl like me may be good (ace in my back pocket) cheating on a test copying homework etc... 2nd reason: the teachers LOVED the idea that I gave the overlooked kids a centerstage feeling even if just for 5 minutes during gym class. So I liked that it made me look good to the teachers, who then viewed me as mature and reasonable, SO if I needed to be a few minutes late I wouldn't get written up or they'd let me slide on dress code etc... 3rd reason: this is probably my favorite, most pleasurable at least to me... To see the frustration on the other teams girls faces. They'd arm their team with the best players high fiving each other and playing so serious and they'd get so frustrated with how poorly our team was as an opponent. They'd actually get angry. And I'd say aw good job you'll get the serve over the net this time cmon try again, while those girls opposite us groaned and sighed because they wanted to play and win... I loved the angry looks on their faces, screw them, who cares about high school gym... I'll tell u who did, my awkward unpopular teammates because for 5 mins they were special, who made them feel special? Me.

The means for "teaching"(because really its society saying this is how you SHOULD behave feel etc) empathy in brief goes as follows... Two small children around your age(in order to teach the lesson its tailored to the pupils age) are riding bikes in the street in front of their home. The first child loses control and goes in the path of a car that slams on the breaks in a panic. Tires screech! The small child lays in the street, his bike wheel bent, the pedal broken off. When the second child runs up to his friend after the dust clears he sees his friend scraped from the road, blood coming from his scratches NOW u child imagine yourself laying on the road and feel the pain of the scratches and scrapes, and feel the throbbing headache and the burning blood coming from your cuts... Imagine how upset you would be if that was you laying in the street, feeling all that pain and having a ruined bike...suffering. NOW that's how u know how someone feels in a situation... So the question you have to ask yourself is "HOW" would you like your friends to react to your injuries, and your family to aid you with repairing your bike, and the ppl to help you off the street. That's how to understand how to do unto others as you would unto you... In a sense empathy, imagine yourself in that situation and how would you feel and want people to react to you, that's how you know how to behave... Or some nice crap like that... It makes sense if you take it back to childhood we can all remember and imagine pain, so its easy to relate to the hurt child... for me its just react as society wants me to, or how I want to? A personal dilemma... Truly, depends on the kid! If its a kid I like guess I'd give him a hand, however if its say my friends daughter who is 11 and just fowl mouthed and disrespectful to her mother would I help her no, I'd probably look at the car to see if she damaged the car... That's about it... Funny thing is I'm ok with not having any feelings if I were to witness something like that... I'd probably see it more as a traffic issue than much else, and Really who cares?

Incredible hulk, perhaps we(socios) all have him inside of us...I'm fine with mine.

Life = futility punctuated with tragedy

While driving to work today I saw a school-aged child walking a bike with a flat tire down a busy street in inclement weather. It made me remember how horrible and awkward childhood was. Then I started trying to remember when things got better. I kept thinking, moving more and more recently in time, and I couldn't really pinpoint a specific time when I stopped feeling like that kid with the flat tire. Then i started wondering, did things ever get better? Am I still that same kid?

How is one to live a moral and compassionate existence when one is fully aware of the blood, the horror inherent in life, when one finds darkness not only in one's culture but within oneself? If there is a stage at which an individual life becomes truly adult, it must be when one grasps the irony in its unfolding and accepts responsibility for a life lived in the midst of such paradox.

-- Barry Lopez