Soul searching

A reader asks: "How is it that sociopaths can 'see' someone's soul or see people as they truly are? How come the rest of society doesn't see the person for who they really are?" My response:

That is such a good question. I feel that you probably only notice the sociopath's ability to see because it is such an unusual perspective, everybody else's perceptive abilities are so familiar to you that they have become emotional background noise (Von Restorff effect?). As a thought experiment, stop and listen to all of the noise around you. Try to identify the source of all the noise you hear, whether street noise, other people, television, radio, automobile noises, wind, etc. You never pay attention to this noise, never even notice it is there most of the time because you are so used to it. You only notice things that are out of the ordinary.

I think a similar thing happens with empaths reading people. You are probably very used to other empaths seeing things about you that you never told them, e.g. when people see your face and realize that you are sad, when people don't stand too close to you because they realize you need your personal space, when people don't either scream at you or whisper at you. With all these behaviors, other empaths are seeing parts of who you truly are and acting accordingly.

Sociopaths see things that you never told them too, just not always the same things a typical empath would see. First, sociopaths have a very different focus, different expectations about the world and the people in it. While you and everyone else are doing emotional sleight of hand meant to distract the average observer from certain harsh truths, e.g. you no longer love your spouse, or hate your boss, or are having an affair, or can't stand your children, the sociopath remains undistracted. It's like telling a joke to a kid with autism -- your attempts at subterfuge will simply not always have the same effects on a sociopath as they have on empaths. Second, sociopaths are students of human interactions, closely studying others so they can pick up on the right social cues to blend in, imitate normal behavior, etc. The truth is that the more you pay attention to something, the more aware you will be. I am a musician, and I can listen to a recording and tell exactly what is going on, who is playing what, even the way the music was mixed in the studio. You could learn that too, if you practiced as much as a musician does.

I think this is what you are referring to when you say that sociopaths seem to be able to see a person's soul or see people as they truly are. Or maybe it is more of an extraordinary bias in which you honestly don't expect a sociopath to understand anything, so when they do they seem very clever? I don't actually know, these are just my guesses.

How to read people like a sociopath

A reader writes:

I'm sure you've heard your empath male friends talk about "psycho chicks" or "crazy chicks", and your female friends have probably complained about the opposite.

Do sociopaths have a knack for spotting imbalanced people, and know to avoid them, or if you're so inclined, are they just a fun game to kill time with?

Also, I've heard that sociopathic people are natural-born people readers. If this is true in your case, have you ever thought about writing a book on the subject? "How To Read People Like A Sociopath" would probably be a runaway hit, and if paying the bills is a part of the game.... lol

Thanks,

My response:

Interesting question. I've been giving it some thought. I have been told I am unusually insightful, and I feel like I do have a knack for spotting imbalanced people, but I wonder whether I'm any better at it than any normal person. I may be spotting some imbalanced people that you aren't and vice versa. For example, I have a hard time dealing with homeless people. I always start out treating them like any other person and then I am always sort of surprised when they start yelling obscenities at me or making inappropriate hand gestures. Even though I realize in my mind that homeless frequently = crazy, for some reason every time I see a homeless person, I always treat him like I would anyone else. It's almost as if I don't recognize these people as being in the category "homeless," and consequently a little mentally unbalanced. Instead my brain just thinks "stranger."

But there are a lot of seemingly normal bad guys that I can clearly see are egomaniacs or control freaks or extra-manipulative, or whatever else is their M.O. Sometimes I think it frustrates my friends -- I can be summarily disapproving of their other friends or the people they date. It's like I am a dog that just happens to hate a seemingly innocent guy, always barking and growling when he is around. Even I sometimes don't understand what it is about a person that is triggering my spidey sense, but almost always there is a lack of genuineness about the person -- inconsistencies in a person's actions vs. their alleged motivations.

I'll try to think more about how it is exactly that I spot these people. My first thought is that I am just so used to wearing masks myself that it is easy to see myself in other mask wearers. I wonder if that is a skill that can be taught. But if there is enough money in it, I certainly can try to fake it. 

Dichotomy

From a sociopath reader:

I've been thinking about this for a long time. There's a dichotomy that almost seems to be a contradiction in the way I feel. These are like two sides of a coin, opposite, but neither could exist without the other. These are my views of the world, and how I fit into it. 

The first is the macro-view, where I see everything from so far away that people turn into little specs barely visible to the eye. Humanity as a whole becomes completely insignificant. Even the infinite, God, the universe, and everything, shrink into irrelevance. I float in a void. An empty vacuous abyss. There's nothing around me. I have no body, there are no sounds, no feeling - I'm neither hot nor cold, because I don't feel. I'm purely an entity, observing from the beyond, and the only thing to observe are the little people, their god, their society, their universe, off in the distance, like a child watching ants in their colony. 

When I'm in the void, I'm separated from humanity, and I look down from the outside. I'm no longer part of this, but an outsider. The world shifts from first person to third person. 

The second view is micro-view, where I penetrate so deeply into the world that I see everything in extreme detail. Like in the movies when Peter Parker first wakes up the day after being bitten, or when somebody becomes a werewolf. All of my senses become hyper-acute. I no longer focus directly at anything, and instead let my vision widen. I see things with my subconscious, and anticipate actions before their required - as if I've shifted backwards a brief glimpse in time. When I feel like this, the world becomes very organic and material. I reach out and touch things, and absorb the sensations. I feel the power in my body. I sense people's emotions and reactions. I feel the intense pleasures and pains in my own body. 

I think I'm a dichotomy of emotions and this physical body. I feel no traditional empathy for these people, and I don't feel like I'm in the same sphere emotionally or spiritually. I have a deep intellectual understanding of these ideas, maybe more so than most people, but for me, they're mere philosophical concepts. I've attempted to seek spirituality, but all I've come up with are formulas. Possible algorithms, like solutions to a problem in programming to explain it all. Open mindedness is the greatest of all forms of disbelief, and I'm non-committal to the point of exasperation. 

Despite this, I am here and now in the flesh. Despite the philosophical constructs I build up to entertain myself, the present feels very real and very - present. Despite the emotional crevice between me and others, I'm not unaware of their emotions, and I soak them up like a thirsty sponge. Part of my mind is infinitely distant, while the other part is infinitely close. I crave her flesh. I crave the pain, and the orgasmic rush of wrath. 

I feel like this dichotomy, although opposite, is at it's core, one in the same. Just like a buddhist monk, who experiences the infinite beauty of world through utterly forgoing human desire, I feel much the same. This isn't simple emotional distance, but a glimpse of how the infinitely far is also infinitely near. At the exact same time, at any one time in all of eternity, I'm both completely outside of everything, and deep inside of her soul. I'm both the darkness in the beyond, and a flesh eating virus consuming her from within.