Showing posts sorted by relevance for query weak sense of self. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query weak sense of self. Sort by date Show all posts

Saturday, November 30, 2019

Re-integration

I had a dream five summers ago. It was during a little bit of a hiccup in my therapeutic progress. Due to external circumstances that were particularly psychologically trying, I was "going through it," as the kids say. I felt like I had lost the sense of self and inward sense of forward motion and direction from therapy. I was lost to myself again. But mixed in with these feelings was relief -- relief that I once again was detached from my own emotions. I went back to my old habits. I manifested weak sense of self, chameleon-esque behavior, but that particular version that I always liked to think was "being on my best behavior." In other words, I was doing stuff just to get along with society and being a little more careful than usual to follow rules or social norms in order to keep things smooth in my life. I was no longer choosing to do things primarily as a true expressions of my identity. I kind of went through periods like this cyclically. I would blow up my life, people would bail me out, and for a short period of time I would feel like I needed to clean up my act. But I didn't really know what that meant, so mostly I just tried to force myself to be what others wanted me to be. This particular time, because of what I perceived to be expectations of my religious faith (and my family, who shares that religious faith) that I live in a very particular way and out of my desire to not rock anybody's boat, I was ready to live a cloistered life of hermitage rather than keep trying to be more authentically myself in a flawed and imperfect way. This was probably the peak of me thinking that I should try in every way possible to fulfill the expected role of legit Mormon upstanding citizen, whatever the personal sacrifice.

That whole summer I was plagued by depression, anxiety, and bad dreams, which led to bad sleep. I started to see a neurobiofeedback guy, who my mother had heard about and wanted her two most troubled children at the time (me and my little brother) to see during the summer while my brother was home from college. I called him my brain doctor.

When the brain doctor first mapped my base level EEG brain activity, he was so tactful and gentle trying to break the news to me that I had abnormally low activity in the areas of the brain associated with empathy. And perhaps because that was such a blatant lack, he always wanted to spend out sessions working on empathy. I always wanted to work on my sleep because the bad sleep and bad dreams were making me a little miserable. As part of that concern for my sleep, he had me keep track of my dreams, which is I think why I remember this one so vividly. I wrote about it a little at the time.

A bad guy (or multiple?) are after me for most of the dream. There are these government agent looking men (dressed in black, sunglasses, assault rifles) that are my security detail. The main bad guy gets caught. For some reason, he has hands that are like just flat circles, like the shape of a thick hamburger patty or pancake -- like a skin and flesh mitt that has been placed over his hands or that his hands have been burned and deformed intentionally that way by whatever "good guys" got him (cops? government agents? a private group?). His face is also deformed and scarred. His lips have been fused together so he can't talk. I thought in the dream -- this is part of his punishment somehow for being bad, that they tried to neutralize his ability to do harm while still allowing him to exist. He doesn't get locked in prison, though. Instead, he gets locked in a walk in closet in a master bedroom suite of what sort of looks like my parents' house. I'm also staying in the same house in another bedroom off the same hallway. Time passes and the men and black and I go to check on the bad guy, but he's not in the closet. Then I notice bloody footprints on the carpet. I immediately know who caused the bloody footprints, another bad guy that has no skin, just exposed flesh. I understood no-skin guy to also be in that condition somehow as a result of the government men. Based on the footprints, no-skin walked in the sliding glass door, walked to the closet, let out pancake hands, and appeared to be still in the house somewhere. So basically the one bad guy let this other out and now they're both on the loose. That's when I woke up.

The dream was such a great example of my typical bad dreams at the time. That summer, being asleep felt like it was the only time in any given day that I didn't have control over my thoughts and feelings and I didn't like it. I didn't want to be asleep because it didn't feel safe. I was afraid of where my mind went.

When I met with brain doctor next, we talked about the dream. He seemed to already understand what this dream likely meant in the context of me, but was asking me questions to see if I would come to see what he was seeing: "Who are the bad guys, aren't they just you? . . . . Parts of yourself that you've disassociated from? . . .  And figuratively castrated or mutilated so they have no say, no ability to do anything? . . . Stripped of any identifying features or relationship to you? . . . They're not looking for you to hurt you, but to be reunited."

And in that moment I knew he was right. When I saw the dream in that light, it was not scary at all. I felt so sorry for the bad guys. So sorry for what I had tried to do to them, unknowingly. I realized very naturally and without having to be prodded that these figures were not to be feared and opposed, they were to be embraced.

I don't know that I've ever experienced such a profound paradigm shift, or at least not so quickly or as obviously as in that moment.

That was the day that I finally gave up on trying to distort myself to fit some concept of what someone else wanted me to be. Because I saw it for it was, mutilation.

And I stopped having bad dreams after that because I realized that the things I feared had nothing to do with uncontrollable external forces and everything to do with me being wrong about what was best for myself and unwittingly self inflicting pain and attempting to live in a world of delusion rather than just seeing and accepting things as they really are.

For a while I was very deliberate about making sure that all parts of me found easy/daily self expression, even if it was just playing cheesy wedding music gigs or watching terrible movies. I wanted to regularly acknowledge and find expression for every aspect of who I am, never silence or disempower.

I think this is something that every body deals with (but especially the personality disordered). I really wish I could find this reference, I want to say it was Ta-Nehesi Coates, but he was describing how he saw his African American daughter gradually grow from being almost completely unaware of her African American status in the eyes of society, to gradually recognizing it, to gradually distorting her true self in response to the expectations -- either in defiance or compliance. We all distort ourselves a little bit. But it is not a good thing. It is the worst thing we can do to distort our essential identity. We shouldn't be doing it for any reason, not for any purpose, and never to please any person. But since we all do it, the good news is that we can re-integrate those parts of us that get lost along the way. We can re-familiarize ourselves with the aspects of our own selves that we have lost touch with. As someone recently told me going through a similar healing process: "I feel more like I have a way of thinking that is like my old self and my new self."

Sunday, December 26, 2021

The Cycle

Excerpt from book proposal for the second book I'd like to get people thoughts on:

There are four stages or steps to what I will call the Cycle. The first stage is seeing things as they currently are. Step 1 is an observing, perceiving, or discerning step in which we learn to see and acknowledge reality as it is, not as we wish or fear it to be. The second stage is one of action, either we are the ones acting or we are being acted upon. Step 2 encompasses most of human experience because most of the time something is happening, moving or developing. Third is a self-reflection and re-evaluation step. It’s noticing the difference between how we experienced ourself and the world in Step 2 versus what we thought they were in Step 1. Fourth, there is a turning outwards to re-enter the world as a different person or in a different way. Step 4 is outwards facing. We engage with the world in a deeper or more nuanced way because we are different or our understanding of the world is different. Step 4 is where we feel the sensation of flourishing: having achieved success or improvement at something, we operate on a higher level than we did before. We have leveled up. 

You can see the Cycle in the macro structure of our lives: (1) we are born with our genetics and into a particular environment that makes certain things easier or less easy for us (“things as they are”); (2) we become an actor in our own environment but are also acted upon, getting psychologically and physically bumped and bruised along the way; (3) we reflect on how through our choices and experiences we have become different or our beliefs about the nature of reality are different/more expansive; and (4) turning outwards with our changed perspectives and self-conception, we re-enter the world a changed person or in a different way. 

The Cycle is how we learn from experience

The Cycle is how we learn anything. The scientific method is the Cycle: we start with a collection of prior beliefs, test those beliefs, assess the results of testing and how those results reflect on our prior beliefs, and finally update our prior beliefs (and ourselves) and re-enter the world with an increased understanding of ourselves and the nature of our reality. The Cycle is also how we grow and develop; it’s how we change to become a better, more informed or clear-thinking and clear-seeing person. The Cycle is how we learn from experience if we actually do learn from experience. 

One of my favorite examples of the Cycle being the way we learn from experience and become a new person or re-enter the world in a new way is the Christmas Carol progression of Ebenezer Scrooge. Charles Dickens starts out with a clear statement of reality as it is: “Marley was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that.” And after many adventures and learning to see things with new eyes it ends with Scrooge announcing, “I am not the man I was.” The Cycle is how we get from here to there, wherever here and there are. 

Getting stuck = we’ve skipped a step

If the Cycle is how we learn and grow as humans, then if we feel like we’re no longer learning and growing like we’d like to, it stands to reason that we’re skipping at least one step in the Cycle. When we skip a step we don’t level up. Think of the Cycle as the threads on a screw. As long as those threads are intact, turning the screw (like turning the Cycle) will result in advancing the screw forward. But sometimes the threads are not intact. If the threads are damaged enough, you can turn and turn a screw but it will not go forward. Similarly, if you skip a step in the Cycle, you won’t level up on this issue; you will not move forward. At least for that issue, you will be the living embodiment of the Sisyphus legend rolling the ball up the mountain only to have it roll back down, repeat ad infinitum. That’s what it means to be stuck: to do the same thing but fail to learn from experience or move forward. 

Skipping Step 3 by failing to acknowledge shortcomings

The most common step for normal people and certainly psychopaths to skip is Step 3. Step 3 is internalizing what we learned from Step 2. Step 3 can be a positive thing, like learning some new truth or skill. But it often comes from having believed or done something not quite right and the self-reflection and re-calibration of our beliefs necessary to re-orient ourselves with reality. (“Not right” in this context doesn’t mean morally wrong, it just means out of sync with reality, like taking a wrong turn while driving.) Sometimes Step 3 is just recognizing that something has changed, for instancing reconciling ourselves to a loss. In her book The Grieving Brain, clinical psychologist Mary-Frances O'Connor argues that grieving is a form of learning. Grieving is Step 3 because it is the process of reconciling ourselves to the ramifications of what it means to live in the world without someone we love in it. 

A lot of people don’t like Step 3 because it can hard to acknowledge we’ve made a mistake, or didn’t know everything about everything, or didn’t act or perform perfectly at some task, or have lost something that can never be righted again. I’ve noticed people skipping this step particularly in online or public debates, but I also see it regularly in my interpersonal relationships. People often have a hard time conceding that they’re wrong or saying they’re sorry. If caught red-handed in an error, they often posture in the hope that everyone will just move on and forget the error with the 24-hour news cycle. Maybe they are concerned that they’ll lose face or some sense of authority, but what they don’t realize is that skipping Step 3’s reconciliation and re-calibration undermines their moral or logical authority with others. And at least for me, one of the most disturbing things to watch is somebody or some group memory-holing an unpleasant fact or event out of existence rather than take the trouble to process it through Step 3. 

But the worst part of skipping the third step is that it prevents the proper operation of the fourth step, the flourishing part: they fail to become a different person so they’re never able to re-enter life in a new way. We’re probably all familiar with the phrase if you don’t learn from history, you’re destined to repeat it. Skipping Step 3 of the Cycle is the underlying mechanics of why this phrase is true. National Geographic photographer Diana Markosian said something similar in an interview about being reunited with her Russian birth father after decades of living apart and how learning that her father had never stopped looking for her felt: “It’s this feeling of this ability to go back in time, to understand something for yourself and bring it back to the present. I think that has been the biggest gift photography has given me, is a second chance to really understand my place in the world and how I relate to it—and how I can do that for those that I photograph as well.” 

You don’t just automatically learn and grow from your experiences. A good example of this are psychopaths, who are known for a poor ability to learn from their own experiences. Like people who have short term memory issues, they will make the same mistakes over and over again. My own working theory, as we’ll keep exploring throughout this book, is that psychopaths can’t properly go through Step 3 for anything but knowledge or skill acquisition because they have such a weak sense of self. As one psychopath told me about his life pre-therapy: “I did not see life as a journey because I did not really change over time.” Because a healthy sense of self is necessary for Step 3, this book will devote many chapters to establishing and/or strengthening our sense of self. 

Psychopaths aren’t the only ones who make the same mistake over and over again, though. Can you think of someone you know who is like this? Maybe it’s you? The truth is, it can be all of us if we if we fail to properly process our experiences and feelings in Step 3.  

Skipping Step 2 by playing it safe

Some of us are skipping Step 2 by not taking enough chances. Remember Step 2 is about movement and direction. It often comes in the form of us trying to do something in the world. For instance, Joan Didion advised the UC Riverside graduating class of 1975 that they should truly live in the world, not just endure it: “To take chances. To make your own work and take pride in it. To seize the moment.” But if you are daily living below your potential (perhaps even far below your potential), if you regularly shirk from challenge or potential difficulties, or if you spend most of your energy burying your talents and ambition instead of acting on them, you are likely skipping Step 2. 

My own personal theory is many people shirk Step 2 for fear of confronting their missteps and personal insufficiencies in Step 3. We’ll address this type of perfectionism and fear of being wrong or making mistakes later in the book. 

I’ve also seen people do a half-assed Step 2 for fear of its implications about Step 1. Remember Step 1 is about where you are now, including who you are now. Let’s take the example of music, since this is where I personally see it most. People who play music often want to think of themselves as being a competent musician (i.e. their Step 1 includes a competence at performing music). Because they’re so afraid of acting in a way that is inconsistent with this self belief, they will intentionally sabotage their Step 2, most frequently by not practicing adequately for a performance. Then they can tell themselves “pretty good for not practicing!” Because they never gave a true Step 2 effort, they skip Steps 3 and 4 and stay bouncing back and forth between Step 1 and a half-assed Step 2, at least as it pertains to their musicianship. 

Skipping Step 1 by ignoring reality

A few of us are struggling seeing things as they really are in Step 1. I regularly see people experience this in their relationships. Red flags are missed or people start fearing that what is there is not enough. In fact, I think much of how we relate to people comes from a fear of reality. We may fear that someone will change, or we may fear that someone will not change. We feel like we need things to be a particular way. We may fear that we’ll never be happy with the way things are, so feel a need to try to push someone or something towards what we think will make us happy. But we can be comfortable no matter what our situation. We can find balance in our connections commensurate with our needs and learn to love and accept the people around us without needing them to be anything but what they are.  

Step 1 would apply to people with mental health disorders, anxiety, depression, etc. that distort our perception of reality. It also includes any insecurities we may feel about ourselves, our background, our level of education, our natural preferences, etc. Finally, it includes our biases, our prejudices, our hasty ill-informed judgments, our seeing through a glass darkly.

Flourishing comes from giving all steps in the Cycle their due

We all want to flourish in life. But when we get stuck on something, we languish. Our lives turn boring because we are doing the same thing over and over again without the personal growth and renewal we crave. 

 

Tuesday, May 21, 2013

Book responses

From a reader:

I graduated last week with a Masters in Counseling. I'm getting ready for my "post-corporate" career.

After doing nothing but reading and studying for national exams the last three months, I didn't think that I would ever want to read another book related to psychology again. However, I read a review of your book in the New York Post (below) and had to get this book. 

What I enjoyed about your book was your honesty. All good autobiographies show the darkness as well as the light (Steve Jobs autobiography is a great example). Thank you for being so candid. Your book was also incredibly well written and well researched. I could not put it down.

You also gave me insight into a disturbing situation that I experienced at work about 20 years ago. It always confused me, but now I fully know what happened - I was dealing with a sociopath!

Thank you for providing me this insight. 

Just a few comments as I am about to move into the mental health field as well as some personal observations of your book. But first, from an Empath's point of view, here is what I cannot stand about sociopaths.

I hate that you play games when we empaths are not playing games! (I acknowledge that all people play games).

Look I'm an empathic person, but I can be as competitive any anybody. But once the game is over, it's over! I want a real relationship, not games.

For sociopaths it never stops. And that's the problem, you think you are so F_____! smart, but the truth is sociopaths are cowards. You pick on people who are not even fighting with you. Deception has its place, in war, the board room and the court room but it's death in relationships. 

And the really perverse part is, you think that you are exerting your "power" and winning. But in truth you were destroying the person who wanted to show you trust which is the very thing that you need most. In the end you have a Pyrrhic victory, you won the battle, but lost the war in obtaining a true relationship.

Just my personal 2 cents (I know you don't care). Now I want to tell you what I found most interesting about your book (which you probably do care about).

I believe the most profound statement that you made was on pg. 153 in your book:

"I believe that a lot of the sociopath's traits such as charm, manipulation, lying, promiscuity, chameleonism, mask wearing and lack of empathy are largely attributable to a very weak sense of self. I believe that all personality disorders share a distorted or abnormal sense of self". 

You nailed it! During my internship it was very clear that whether I was dealing with Narcissists, Borderlines, and other personality disorders that all of these people had no true sense of self. 

This above all: to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man.
Hamlet - Act 1, scene 3

Secondly, I find it very interesting that on pg. 65 where you said, "my father's emotional and moral hypocrisy taught me not to trust emotions or anything else that couldn't be backed up with hard, indisputable fact." The majority of my client's struggle with trust issues - divorce, sexual abuse, illness, etc. So often the underlying theme in our sessions is, "I want to trust, but I'm so afraid, Help me!".

Lastly, In Chapter 7 of your book you describe identifying yourself with the Tin Woodman in the The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. "But as heartless as I am, I have wanted love, to feel connection, to feel like I belong to the world like anyone else. No one, it seems, can escape loneliness."

You quoted John Bowlby in your book. Of all the theorists that I studies in school, I was most impacted by his work. Yes, human beings can be untrustworthy, unkind, undependable and candidly, a pain in the ass! But they are worth it. In the end connection, love, kindness, goodness and gentleness is what makes life worth living.

My hope for you is that this "Tin Woman" finds her heart.

I also realize that you must be going through a difficult time right now as it appears that your identity has been outed and that you may expect some "unintended consequences" from publishing this book. 

Hang in there. The best thing for you is that people know that you are a sociopath. 

Your mask is your defense, but it's also your problem.

Someone can only have a relationship with you if you are honest about who you are. Your mask of secrecy is a hindrance and not a help in your life.

Best wishes and God's blessings to you in your journey.

Friday, August 30, 2013

Borderline personality disorder vs. sociopathy

This was an interesting article from the Psychology Today blog relating an experiment done examining the brain activity of sociopaths and comparing it to that of people with borderline personality disorder. Why these two disorders? Apparently, sociopathic and borderline traits occur with equal frequency among violent offenders, but they reach their antisocial behavior in different ways:

Typically, antisocial offenders with borderline personality disorder are emotionally reactive, unable to regulate emotions, bereft of cognitive empathy (knowing how another person feels), rageful, and reactively aggressive. By contrast, antisocial offenders with high psychopathic traits can be characterized as emotionally detached, cognitively empathic, morally problematic, exploitative, and proactively and reactively aggressive.

The experiment:

The investigators took MRI scans of the two groups of antisocial offenders, with the aim of exploring differences in the cerebral structure of their brains. All offenders had been convicted for capital, violent crimes (including severe bodily injury such as murder, manslaughter, robbery, or rape) from high-security forensic facilities and penal institutions and were formally diagnosed with antisocial personality disorder. There was also a comparison group of healthy men.

The results:

The antisocial offenders with borderline personality disorder had alterations in the orbitofrontal and ventromedial prefrontal cortex regions, which are involved in emotion regulation and reactive aggression; there were also differences in the temporal pole, which is involved in the interpretation of other peoples’ motives. By contrast, the antisocial offenders with high psychopathic traits showed reduced volume mostly in midline cortical areas, which are involved in the processing of self-referential information and self reflection (i.e., dorsomedial prefrontal cortex, posterior cingulate/precuneus) and recognizing emotions of others (postcentral gyrus). 

I thought this was interesting. I wrote previously about the connection between sociopathy and alexithymia, or the decreased ability to identify, understand, and describe one's own emotions. This trait has been linked to a lack of empathy, the idea being that if you are unable to understand your own emotions, you don't stand much of a chance of understanding the emotional worlds of others. I feel like I don't understand my emotions, that they feel out of context to me, like I'm getting only snippets of a movie played backwards. This feeling probably contributes to my weak sense of self. This brain scan study seems to comport with this theory -- that sociopaths suffer from an ability to process self-referential information and to self-reflect, and that consequently sociopaths have flexible understandings of not only morality, but basically every human trait.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Sexuality and sociopathy

Sociopathy is a personality disorder. We are unusually impressionable, very flexible with our sense of self, and with our defining characteristics. Because we don't have a rigid self-image or worldview, we don't observe social norms, we don't have a moral compass, and we have a fluid definition of right and wrong. We can also be shapeshifters, smooth-talking, and charming. We can become your ideal mate, in a way described here and here. We do not have an established default position on anything. This extends, at least in some degree, to our sexuality.

The original diagnostic and statistical manual (DSM), released in 1952, listed homosexuality as a sociopathic personality disturbance. The connection between the two was subsequently removed due to protests from the gay community that homosexuality was being equated with sociopathy. Many have commented since that sociopaths seem to have no particular sexual identity, that even the term bisexual is misleading as it implies some sort of a preference, albeit a shared one, and that "equal opportunity" is a more apt label. In fact, the sociopath seems to be the bonobo of the human world -- frequent, casual, utilitarian sex. As one person reasoned, "such an individual, in their quest for dominance and power would not feel the need to discriminate according to gender."

We see fictional examples of the sociopathic "bisexual" with the talented Mr. Ripley, Joker from Batman (depending on who writes him), and real life examples with Leopold and Loeb and others listed here. If I had to speculate about current celebrities, I would also include Angelina Jolie, Tom Cruise, and Lindsay Lohan, although narcissism could apply equally well for some of those.

I was thinking about all of this while reading an article on Sir Laurence Olivier's sexual predilections. Although married three times, he apparently also had many male interests, one of whom explained it as follows:
"He's like a blank page and he'll be whatever you want him to be. He'll wait for you to give him a cue, and then he'll try to be that sort of person."
Maybe larry wasn't a sociopath, maybe he was, but he shared with sociopaths the common characteristic of a weak sense of self, and he illustrates well how that might play out with one's sexual identity. In any case, the lesson learned here is not only does being a sociopath potentially make you a great thespian, it also gives new meaning to the old consolation, "there are plenty more fish in the sea."

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Sociopath - pain = no empathy?

A reader asked this very interesting question:

I learned in a psych class that living things (or mammals, at least), thanks to the magic of mirror neurons, do not distinguish signs of distress in another creature from their own distress. You mention in your one post that you have a very detached stance to pain. What if what we think of as empathy is tied directly to the perception of pain? What if sociopathy is not primarily a lack of empathy, but a greatly altered perception of pain both in oneself and in others? Would it be possible that if an empath's normal neurological responses to pain were tampered with, they would experience less empathy? Could the reverse be true for sociopaths?

I always like these sorts of explanations that somehow tie together different, seemingly unrelated aspects of sociopathy together -- e.g. so insightfully perceptive (enough to be exceptionally manipulative) but lacking empathy?  It's really an odd disorder, with a suite of traits that so consistently present amongst sociopaths and yet seem so scattershot.

One of my favorite unifying theories from a psychologist named Joseph Newman is the idea that sociopathy is largely an attentional disorder, where the sociopath is getting all the right input but is just not paying attention to them in the same way that everyone else is, so they are meaningless to him.

[One of my own pet theories is that a lot of the sociopaths traits (charm, manipulation, lying, promiscuity, chameleonism, compartmentalization, mask wearing, lack of empathy, lack of strong gender, racial, social, sexual or other identity) is largely attributable to a very weak sense of self.  I believe that all personality disorders share a distorted/abnormal sense of self, that that is essentially what makes them a "personality" disorder, and not something else.]  

I also like the one the reader suggested above -- that to the extent sociopaths do not feel things like pain the same way empaths do, the mirror neuron cues are just falling on deaf ears.  But I wonder.  A lot of sociopaths have complained that they have in fact felt something akin to empathy in isolated incidents, particularly if they happen to be feeling something similar at the same moment and happen to recognize that same emotion in others.  This seems to me to be more attentional, but I don't know.

Sunday, July 20, 2014

Morality experiment

From same reader:

My experience my entire life has been people trying to lay a moral "trip" on me - in the sense that I "ought" to be "good". They never gave me a convincing reason. It was always easy for me to see, for instance, that me taking what I wanted led to me getting what I wanted. Maybe I got punished, so I needed to be sneaky and not get caught. I have a calculating mind, so I'd take risks if it seemed like the benefits outweighed the costs. This is classic sociopathy/psychopathy. I've been this way as long as I can remember.

Recently, after the losing-my-sense of self experience (see previous emails), I noticed that depending on how I behaved, I'd have more or fewer thoughts about "me". That is, if I had a conversation with someone and I wasn't truthful, I'd replay the conversation in my head. That gets in the way of having fun. Rather than being able to enjoy what's in front of me, I'm replaying my lies. Of course, it makes it easier to remember the lies and whom I lied to, but it isn't as fun as being able to enjoy whatever I'm doing when I'm doing it.

So I did some reading, in a book written by an embezzler (sociopath?), "A Practical Guide to True Happiness". In it, he explains that when we do things like kill, lie, steal, etc. that is exactly what happens: we'll feel more disconnected from life. If you've experienced being connected to life and then the feeling of contraction, you know that one is nicer to live. So his advice is that we eschew lying, stealing, etc. And if you notice this stuff, you change your behavior. Once you figure out that the stove is hot, you stop touching it.

After experiencing things and paying attention, I've decided to change my behaviors and behave morally - so that I'll have peace of mind. It has nothing to do with good/bad or moral/immoral. I feel relieved to have figured out this. For about four decades, I've been a deliberately amoral person. As you'd expect. I've treated people badly, treated animals badly, lied all the time (aka "living a secret life"), cheated, stolen, etc. Relief is near immediate. You get peace of mind and it stays.

This is the one way I can see an evil person deciding that he wants to live a moral life: he decides he wants complete peace of mind.

I should have figured it out by now - but as you know, sociopaths aren't that good at learning from negative feedback (in this case, contraction of mind) nor do they have much insight (into what their mind is like from moment to moment). The classic way of trying to tell a sociopath to behave ("do it or else" or just "be good") doesn't work at all and leads to resistance.



I thought I'd propose the following exercise for your sociopathic audience:

1) Pack a bag of waste paper, empty bottles, etc. into a plastic bag. Try to make sure it has some trash that blows away.

2) Go out on a walk in nature on a windy day. Make sure you are alone. Do deep breathing to get REALLY relaxed. Watch the play of light, sounds and feel your feet and legs as you walk around. If you concentrate on your breath, you'll get more and more relaxed. There might be a feeling of contentment. Your sense of who you are may be feeling "bigger" and more vacuous - check and see if you feel that way, or if you feel like a robot made of meat, trapped in your body. When you are very content and relaxed, move to step 3. Even if you are anticipating step 3, try to set that aside, and focus on relaxing and noticing as much as you possibly can.

3) Take out the bag of trash and empty it. Watch the stuff blow away. Try to see how you think and feel. Does your mind contract? Do you feel more or less like someone trapped in a body. Does your mind fill with justifications about why littering is OK? What is your mind doing? How does your body feel?

4) Notice - how connected to nature do you feel? Any regrets?

5) Leave all the trash there and get away. Notice if your mind replays the incident later, or if you have any thoughts about it.

Another similar exercise:

1) Drive your car in some traffic. Get into a relaxed, happy, content mood. Pay attention to the breath as you drive. Reflect on how miraculous it is that you've got a body, a car, eyesight and all that you need to drive down the road. Try to notice how you feel in your body. Big and vacuous sense of self? Or do you feel weak and like you're trapped in your body? When you're feeling relaxed and content, or even joyous, move to the next step.

2) Do some bad driving in front of other people. E.g. run a red light. Go through a stop sign that you should. Do a u-turn in the wrong place. Just pick some maneuver that is anti-social, but that won't get you put in jail. Do it. Do a bunch of it.

2) Notice how you feel in your body. What sort of thoughts are you having? Do you feel better or worse than when you were relaxed? Is your mind filled with justifications. Do you feel connected to your fellow humans.

3) Note if you replay the incident in your head, replay what you'd say if told not to do it, etc. The point is to notice if what you do impacts your experience later. Does it?

When I did these experiments, I was bothered at how it felt to be me afterwards. I enjoyed being relaxed and happy more than I enjoyed being selfish.

It might be nice if your readers would do some experiments and send you responses. You could get two blog posts out of it. :-)

Friday, March 22, 2013

Family ties

This was an interesting article about how people are more resilient when they feel like they are part of a larger extended family, know some stories and the origins of their ancestors, etc.

The single most important thing you can do for your family may be the simplest of all: develop a strong family narrative.
***

“The ones who know a lot about their families tend to do better when they face challenges,” she said.

Her husband was intrigued, and along with a colleague, Robyn Fivush, set out to test her hypothesis. They developed a measure called the “Do You Know?” scale that asked children to answer 20 questions.

Examples included: Do you know where your grandparents grew up? Do you know where your mom and dad went to high school? Do you know where your parents met? Do you know an illness or something really terrible that happened in your family? Do you know the story of your birth?

Dr. Duke and Dr. Fivush asked those questions of four dozen families in the summer of 2001, and taped several of their dinner table conversations. They then compared the children’s results to a battery of psychological tests the children had taken, and reached an overwhelming conclusion. The more children knew about their family’s history, the stronger their sense of control over their lives, the higher their self-esteem and the more successfully they believed their families functioned. The “Do You Know?” scale turned out to be the best single predictor of children’s emotional health and happiness.

“We were blown away,” Dr. Duke said.


Why does knowing where your grandmother went to school help a child overcome something as minor as a skinned knee or as major as a terrorist attack?

“The answers have to do with a child’s sense of being part of a larger family,” Dr. Duke said.
***
Dr. Duke said that children who have the most self-confidence have what he and Dr. Fivush call a strong “intergenerational self.” They know they belong to something bigger than themselves.

I come from a big family and for some reason I learned to see most of them as extensions of myself, so I looked out for them. And they looked out for me. I felt like we were like twigs -- weak apart, strong together. I don't know why I thought that and other children sociopaths see their family as threats. Maybe it's because we were all so smart we spoke a sort of shorthand/twinspeak with each other.  Maybe it was because we had a common enemy in our narcissist father. For whatever reason, I always felt like I was part of something bigger, almost like I had grown up in a mafia family. And it's true, I think it did make me a better person



Friday, March 27, 2015

Teenage sociopaths

From a reader:

About a year and a half ago, I stumbled across your blog - how, I don't recall. At 15, I had never heard the term sociopath before. The term psychopath had been thrown around, but I only knew the cliché version - sadistic, cruel, and with no emotional capacity. The type of person you wouldn't want to be alone with.

Reading about sociopathy was oddly fascinating to me. I found myself able to understand and relate more than I would have thought. The question has been tugging at me ever since: Am I a sociopath?

I recently purchased and read your book. I enjoyed it immensely, and while I could not identify with it 100%, which might be due to age and experience gaps, much of it struck a chord.

The weak sense of self was particularly relatable. I've always felt that "chameleon-ness", the ability to put on different personas without a second thought, and not feeling attached to any. Alone, I realize, I almost feel like a shell of a person. Without others to react to, there's not much of a "me". So for that reason, I like being around people. They give me substance.

The destruction of others has been a fun game for me. I know not to do it with my friends or family too much, since I'm likely to lose them if I do, or not get what I want out of our relationships. After all, I like my friends. They're funny, intelligent, and interesting for the most part. They're like puzzles that I'm trying to solve. But the thrill of destroying others is too much to resist. I have toyed with students I'm not fond of, turned people against certain individuals, tried to see if I could break a good relationship between a student and teacher once or twice. I don't think I've ever caused permanent damage. I just like the feeling of destroying something in the instant.

The last part I truly identified with was the attachment to family. Well, in a way. My mother and brother are too emotional and empathetic for me to relate to. They're mine, and I'd defend them if they were threatened, but saying I love them might go to far. My father displays sociopathic tendencies, though I don't know if he's one or not. What I mean to say is - I romanticize the concept of family. The concept of family lines is a beautiful thing. Which is why getting married and having children is something I am very interested in. I want to have something that is mine, to have an extension of myself.

The defining factor of a sociopath though, the empathy, is something I hesitate on. I'm only 17. While I can't think of a time I've felt truly empathetic towards another, that doesn't necessarily mean I can't. My emotions are egocentric, yes. I'm motivated by myself. I can logically understand emotions, but I don't connect with them. The worst thing people can do to me is cry. I don't know what to do, and I always feel like I'm just making it worse. Which means they cry longer, and I still have to feel uncomfortable/irritated.

My other hesitation with self-diagnosing myself is my emotions. I feel them, perhaps not as strongly as I should, especially the negative ones. But I feel happiness when doing something I like, frustration or sadness when something doesn't go my way. As for love... I don't think I've ever felt it, but it is something I want. I wonder if all sociopaths want love, though. It's a rather selfish thing, or so it seems. I want someone to possess, and I want the adoration that comes with being loved.
Part of me wonders if I'm too young to be a sociopath, truly, since I could still "change".

This has ended up being a larger email than I intended, and I apologize. I'm almost done.

What is your opinion on sociopaths and imagination? I don't just mean violent day dreams (who hasn't fantasized about slitting the throat of a rival?). I mean stories, like coming up with your own world, own plots, own characters. Not actually believing in them, but treating them like a book in your head. A distraction from boredom. I haven't seen anything on your blog about it, but could have just missed it.

My other question: do you think sociopaths are naturally curious? Or just people in general? In your book, you struck me as a curious person, but I may be wrong. I myself am absurdly curious, since knowledge can always indirectly affect or protect me. Truth be told, I am dying to know your name. But I can understand why you wouldn't want to tell me, and I'll live if I never learn it. Either way, I would like to thank you for your book. It was enlightening and fascinating.

My response:

I'm not sure if we have different imaginations or that we imagine vastly different things. Maybe we imagine things more explicitly and are more self-aware about it? Like I imagine in the ruining games that I've really seduced someone so much that they will never get over me, but who knows if that is really true. I also imagine what it might be like to be other people in the cognitive empathy sense. I also imagine ahead of time several strategic steps if I'm playing some sort of game or even in life, which makes me a good plotter, I guess.

I consider myself a truthseeker, although I'm not sure if there's complete overlap with curiosity. I have always thought that maybe it was because I grew up living in the warped reality of a narcissist and in a lot of ways also lived in my world of my own imagination in which I was this powerful figure, that I always wanted to be sure to distinguish between real life and make believe, unlike my father?

Thursday, November 20, 2014

Dark matter

Some minor health issues have had me thinking recently about diagnoses of exclusion. There are certain things that we can never prove, we can only prove that they must exist because there is an observable effect with no other explanation. Certain stomach viruses are diagnoses of exclusion, so is love and religion/god. Along those same lines, a reader asked, " is it possible for a sociopath to be self aware when there is no self construct?" I responded:
Your question is interesting and implicates what it means to know anything about oneself. Whenever I write things that would be considered autobiographical about myself, I always wonder -- is this the truth? Is this what actually happened? I'm sure everyone feels this way to a certain extent, but I wonder if my weak sense of self combined with my ability to hyper-compartmentalize makes me even more susceptible to those effects. I often question the objective veracity of my reality -- I acquired that habit a decade or so after I went on a self-deception binge that ended very poorly. If I'm not careful, I am just as likely to hide certain things from myself as I am to hide them from outsiders, like Hyde hiding things from Jeckyl, or more modernly Tyler Durden and the Narrator. This may be why it is commonly said that sociopaths are not aware enough to even wonder whether they are sociopaths (although clearly the oft heard suggestion that "if you think you might be a sociopath, you aren't one" is an exaggeration).

It is true what you said about the difficulties of being self-aware without a self construct. A lot of it is indirect observation, I think, like how we know that there exists dark matter in the universe not because we can see or measure it directly, but because we can see its effects so we presume it to be there. I guess that is how society knows that there are psychopaths among them as well -- we typically stay hidden, albeit in plain sight, but you can certainly see our effects.

Saturday, April 5, 2014

The Wolf of Your Street

Andy Jones writes for Men's Health UK about how I (sort of) mentored him to (sort of) success. The article is pretty entertaining. One of my favorite stories:

Olga, our cleaner, has to go. My partner Jennifer adores her, even though her work is sloppy. Also I'm paying 40 a week for someone to break stuff and push a vacuum around. Empathetic Me would have given he a warning; then -- if I had to -- the 'it's not you it's me' talk and sent her off with a tip. Weak. 

Sociopaths don't just take what they want, says Thomas. They take more. "Say a friend is selling a car for 5000 and another is looking to buy one for 10,000. Most people would simply put the two in touch. Not me. I would buy form the first friend, sell it to the second and double my money." Emboldened by Thomas's ruthlessly simple rationale, I corner Olga on Monday, cleaning day

"We're done here. No more cleaning." 

"Ok, I see you next week." 

"No, I no longer need a cleaner." 

"But Jennifer..." she starts. "No, I am saying I don't need a cleaner."

Now for the profit: I like to Jen that I have booked the cleaner for the next week then do a deliberately half-arsed job of cleaning the house myself. Jen notices the house is still a tip. "You know what, you're right -- we need to let Olga go." I offer to do the firing -- covering my tracks while looking both decisive and strong -- and pocket the 40. Later on, conscience racked, I pay for dinner. This kind of stuff doesn't come naturally. Deep down, I'm a nice guy. On a night out both the drinks and the jokes are on me. I'm ambitious but cautious and often think what I could achieve with sharper elbows.

I really enjoy hearing about empaths trying out sociopathic traits, although I wouldn't have bothered cleaning the flat, even half-arsed, I would have just told Jennifer that she decided to move back to Estonia (but I guess he did get some money out of it?). It's funny that many of them see it as something to aspire to, as if they could accomplish many more of their dreams if they just toughened up a bit. But frequently as they start toughening up, they start realizing that accomplishing the dream is not actually the most important thing to them. And I think that's good for them. Good for them to realize that there are other things they would rather have than that particular brass ring, so they can stop pining for it and feeling miserable when they don't get it. Because it is not all that sociopathic to be envious (except for the mythological covetous sociopath, whom I sort of suspect is just a malignant narcissist?).

But don't stop at that realization, I say. Explore the experience for what exactly it is that you really do want above all else. For instance, later in the article he describes being sociopathic in his relationship:

In the bedroom, I've been persistent in my campaign against Jen's negligence with negligees. It's working. "I like this power game," Jen purrs, as she tries the lacy ensemble I've picked. But I don't enjoy manipulating her. Being a sociopath is fine in emails. Face to face, it's a very different matter.

Not to read too much into what is mainly just an entertaining piece, but it's interesting that he says he doesn't enjoy manipulating her. And I'm sure he doesn't. But why? Is it because he thinks she doesn't like being manipulated? Because it seems like she does, at least in this seductive way (everyone wants to be seduced). The problem seems to be more that manipulation doesn't suit his "nice guy" vision he has for himself, even if that is exactly what his partner desires from him apparently. If so, this example sort of supports my theory that one reason that sociopaths are such charming chameleons is because they have a weak sense of self, i.e. that they don't allow their own need for personal integrity and identity to interfere with their desire to please another.

Also, apropos of nothing, but have I noticed before that "pathetic" is in "empathetic"? There must be some interesting shared root analysis there.

Thursday, January 5, 2012

Misanthropy

I was searching for a particular old email recently and stumbled across an interesting discussion between me and a friend.  To give you some insight into my friend's view of humanity, this friend had one time suggested that it was easy for me to be so happy-go-lucky about humanity because I had more "faith" in love than she did.  It is weird for me to read things like this because I don't feel this way anymore--I am not as enamored with humanity as I was even a few years ago.  Then I saw this email (again, from several years ago) to the same friend about how I had been helping out with the political cause of a mutual acquaintance--a political view that this particular friend abhorred.
I'm very impressionable it is true. And yes, I did pick a conclusion first and then come up with ways to justify it to myself. I didn't realize that I had done such a poor job that you could see through me so easily.  
Anyway, this is how I have always been. I don't really think things are morally abhorrent. I usually don't think about stuff that way. I really am pretty much a blank slate. I just like people, I don't mind adopting their values on things and fighting for those values. It's like the Naomi character in the bible saying, "where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. your people shall be my people, and your god my god." People are my beliefs and alliances, you included. If the other side had gotten to me first, maybe it would be a different story and a different set of justifications. I can understand people not respecting that or not thinking it is a legitimate way of living, but I don't know. It seems alright to me. But I am not entirely surprised that my justifications didn't make sense to you. Don't be sad, though. I'm ok. I'm not about to join a cult or anything.
It's weird for me to read something like this. It's odd to see certain very familiar things about myself (i.e. weak sense of self, impressionable, people pleasing), but I also realize that I used to like people much more than I do now. It's as if my love and interest in humanity was a passing phase--a bit of a personal fad, like the careers or other exploits that I have picked up and dropped just as suddenly over the years. I think I exhausted the potential upside with people and then it became (and still is) just maintenance. There's no longer the same thrill that I used to get in interacting with people.

My current relationships take so much more effort than my previous relationships did.  When I was younger, I would just burn through relationships.  I confessed to one that I was using him like a paper napkin, to be disposed after I was done with him.  After a while I got a little tired of the drama and upheaval that went along with these aborted relationships.

Now I have a general rule that I don't mess with my intimates, only with people to whom I do not have many ties.  It's basically a policy of not defecating where I intend to eat.  There are real benefits in living my life this way, but there are also definite costs.  Now if I am fed up with someone, I don't blow up or try to hurt them, I distance myself from them and spend some recovery time alone.  Sometimes I have to spend the equivalent of several hours alone in order to be one hour of my well-behaved, solicitous self around certain people. It's odd, but the nicer I have become to my intimates, the less goodwill I have for the rest of humanity.

Tuesday, June 18, 2013

Parent to a sociopath

I finally got around to watching We Need to Talk About Kevin, the film version of the book of the same name, about a school massacre perpetrator and his mother. The story starts with the mother Eva becoming pregnant. She is ambivalent about motherhood. Her son Kevin does not respond to her mediocre attempts to bond or soothe. As he grows just a little older, it becomes clear that he is not normal, perhaps even deeply disturbed.

The film is no chronological and skips between before and after the massacre. Her life before was first young and exciting New York then a downgrade (in her mind) to a suburban estate with her growing family. Her life after is lonely squalor where she is the victim of all vandalism, violence, and sexual antagonism meant to, what? Shame her into denouncing her son? Some of the perpetrators seem to be family to the victims of the massacre, but others apparently are just looking to participate in socially sanctioned aggression and exploitation (her co-worker, after a rebuffed unwelcome advance, snarls "Where do you get off, you stuck up bitch? Do you think anyone else is gonna want you now?"). Her life is ruined. The second part flashes back to her early struggles with motherhood, then power struggles with her son, as evidenced in part by his refusal to be potty trained. In a fit of rage over him deliberately soiling his diaper after she just changed it, she throws him and breaks his arm. When recalling the moment later, he tells her "It’s the most honest thing you ever did. Do you know how they potty train cats? They stick their noses in their own shit. They don’t like it. So they use the box." After coming home from the hospital, he lies to his father about the broken arm, saying he fell off the diaper changing table. He then extorts his mother with the threat of exposure in order to get his way.

She is obviously not mother of the year, but who could be with a son so cold and apparently evil? That at least seems to be the suggestion of the first half of the film -- that there's nothing else she could have done better and we're supposed to feel sorry for her because she was unlucky enough to have birthed a demon. By the middle of the movie, we know what is going to happen, we are just filling in details. We get a little more realistic characterization of the son. The mother puts a cd marked "I love you" into her computer, which infects it with a virus (and all computers from her office connected to the network). She asks, why would you have something like this, what's the point? "There is no point. That's the point." She makes fun of fat people at a rare mother son excursion, to which he points out "You know, you can be kind of harsh sometimes."

Eva: "You’re one to talk."

Kevin: "Yeah, I am. I wonder where I got it."

Apart from a brief childhood sickness, when young Kevin cuddles with her while she reads him a book, their relationship is strained. Oddly, she is shown devotedly visiting him in prison, even though they hardly exchange a word. What's her motivation? Penance? Curiosity? Duty? Not love, is it? We also discover that although she lives a lonely, isolated existence, she has at least in part chosen this life (still lives in the same town despite the antagonism, avoids her mother's plea that she visit for the holidays). Finally, we see that her new home has a bedroom for him with all of his things, including his clothes that she regularly washes and irons to keep fresh. Why? On the second anniversary of the massacre she again visits Kevin in prison. He is about to be transfered to an adult facility. His head is poorly shaved. His face is bruised. He is not his usual confidently unapologetic self. She tells him he doesn't look happy. "Have I ever?"With their time running out, she finally confronts him:

Eva: Why?

Kevin: I used to think I knew. Now I'm not so sure. [pause]

Prison guard: Time's up.

They hug, Eva finally apparently reaching that place of love and acceptance for her son that had for so long eluded her.

I liked a lot of things about the film. There are some very accurate portrayals of sociopathic behavior. For instance, although Kevin never feels remorse about the massacre, he does show signs of regret -- an acknowledgment that perhaps he has miscalculated or misunderstood the true nature of life, including a sense of permanence of some consequences that many teenagers fail to intuit.

Perhaps the most interesting aspect of the film is the way it contrasts moral certainty (portrayed as ugly behavior) with self-doubt (portrayed as a sign of hope and the possibility of change). When the mother is at her most self-assured, Kevin hates her the most. It's only when she was weak enough to break his arm that he respects her for being honest. And Kevin's only redeeming moments are when he is sick and at the end when he is unsure whether the massacre was a good idea. These are stark contrasts to the moral indignation of the mother as she repeatedly tells her son off, the son as he repeatedly tells her everything is meaningless and that she is a hypocrite, the townspeople as they rally around to collectively dehumanize her (a small nod to the Scarlet Letter?), the husband who tells her she is a bad mother, etc. The problem with making these sorts of comprehensive judgments about a person are not that they aren't founded in truth, but that people naturally defy such pat assessments. They're simply too dynamic and life is too complicated (and subject more to chance than choice) to say with any degree of certainty that "so-an-so would never do something like that," or even "I would never do something like that." Moral certainty is often based in truth, but it denies so much more than it ever considers.

The film is also a true tragedy in that despite Kevin being particularly sinister and Eva particularly cold, there is nothing inherently wrong with either of these characters. Put in different circumstances, Eva could have been a wonderful mother and Kevin could have channeled his machiavellian traits to more pro-social activities that would have made an equal splash. The problems were in the way they interacted with each other. They were locked in a death struggle, a double drowning. In a desperate effort to ensure that the one would not unduly rule the other's life, they spent all of their time reacting to each other instead of just quietly going about their own lives. I see this with victims on this site too -- becoming so obsessed with making sure that someone does not unjustly assert their will on you that you allow your whole world to revolve around thoughts of the other person. They were both so focused on winning particular battles with each other, thinking that the sum of small wins would add up to a gestalt of victory. They did not consider the possibility that these might be Pyrrhic, or that sometimes when you win, you lose. Because neither Eva nor Kevin were willing to bend their vision of the world to accommodate other viewpoints, they were both eventually broken.

Thursday, August 6, 2015

Addict or sociopath?

Some people ask if they or an addict who they know is a sociopath. My understanding is that addicts often display the characteristics of sociopaths without being able to actually be diagnosed as sociopaths because it's not a permanent condition (e.g., recover from the addiction, recover from the sociopathic traits). I don't have any real experience abusing drugs, so it's hard for me to know when someone is just an addict or is also a sociopath?

From a reader:

Convinced that I may be a sociopath, or at least have some type of antisocial personality disorder, I've come to you for further analysis. I've come to the point where I can recognize patterns in my behavior, past and still occurring, that can be identified with sociopathic traits & characteristics. I’ve noticed my inability to empathize with my mother, or any of my relatives, and my lack of interest in others ideals or their emotions. In later infancy and early adolescence, I was described to be abusive and manipulative of my mother/sister during my father's absence while incarcerated. I would physically abuse my sister and take advantage of my mother’s tenderness and inability to deny me of almost any privilege. My father's arrival into my life brought structure and discipline within the household. I was very hateful of my father, initially, but respected his ability to deliver swift punishment with complete rationality. We had a lot in common which lead to me favoring him over my mother. But I still persisted in my mischief. In elementary school, I made friends easily and could band them together to accompany me in my nefarious schemes. It came to the point where my father couldn't afford to leave work anymore to beat me himself, so he gave consent to certain instructors and faculty members to do the job for him in his stead.

I grew fond of my father but still felt emotional unattached to him. For example, when he was hospitalized in the result of a stabbing during a street fight, I wasn’t very emotionally receptive and didn’t feel any sense of urgency for his well-being. During the hospital visit, I feigned sadness in order to seem concerned. My attempt to fool him wasn’t successful. When he saw me he immediately knew that my tears lacked sincerity and smiled at me while lying on his bed, with his abdomen stapled together.

 I think that because of him and his almost militant approach at disciplining me, I turned out to be much more tame than what I could've been. As I grew older, I used lies and manipulation in order to avoid being beaten. Although it wasn't foolproof and it ended up contributing to my family members deeming me generally untrustworthy, I was able to maneuver around and stave off immediate punishment.

In high school, I was extremely conflicted. My father wasn't around anymore, due to his past criminal charges coming back to haunt him. I was then elected to be the man of the house and was expected to fill his shoes. I tried to emulate him and his role as a diligent, selfless, and stern family man. That proved to be very difficult. In some ways, it was easy to fashion myself after him. He could be extremely calculative. In addition, my apathy could be mistaken for benevolent qualities similar to his selflessness and generosity. Ultimately, I felt inadequate in my role. My responsibilities also hindered me from indulging in the typical activities that a normal teenager would have been able to. 

I also felt a slight betrayal from my mother, who couldn't accept my general impartial attitude towards my duties and at the fact that she was very intrusive of my privacy. Whatever discoveries she made as a product of her habitual prying, she became more and more aware of my true nature. I simply did what I felt like doing, as long as I felt it didn't have a detrimental affect on others. I believed that it was justified. She had hopes for me to grow into a loving and compassionate son who was considerate of other’s feelings, and primarily of hers’. I thought of her as a mess, at times. She could be very emotional and it didn't have a pull on me. She would question my love for her but I would say things like I loved in my own way. I feel that I do love her as my mother but am not very fond of her as a person. I grew to be very close to my sister. I hold her very dear to me, despite our past violent relationship.

Upon graduating from high school, I was accepted to one of the best design schools in America. I chose to major in illustrations because I was very good at it. After completing my freshman year, on the slow track of a part time student, I felt quite passionless about drawing in general. Around that time, I became unemployed and was earnestly looking for work. I took to craigslist and went for a rather unordinary job for someone of my background and stature. Growing up middle class, others felt that it was odd that I felt compelled to sell $2,000 vacuum as a cold call, door-to-door salesman, in trailer parks to boot. I didn’t know exactly why at the time, but I didn’t have any qualms with the work and had a rather positive outlook. During that time period, I believe that I was at my most sociopathic. I played the role of a seasoned salesman well, as I went from trailer to trailer pitching a sale to people who were obviously financially unfit to buy a vacuum for the price of a used car. People were often forced to buy with the alternative option to finance the payments on the vacuum. The money was terrible, due to the company being an actual pyramid scheme, but for some odd reason that did not concern me. My mother recommended that I should find work elsewhere, after a month. 


 Working in the environment that I did, I fell into recreational drug use. I began to experiment with MDMA and LSD to rouse myself or try to gain some direction, because I fell into apathy. It ended up being quite detrimental. I started to feel emotions and couldn't understand them. I started to feel extremely alienated and off kilter. I felt weak and had numerous episodes of uncontrollable sobbing. Sometimes from depressions, anxiety or deep joy. I did not like it. Going to raves and partying every weekend was also taking a toll on my school life and finances. I stopped for a short period of time and turned to drinking. I felt much more I control while intoxicated from alcohol. I also started to experiment with narcotics (Xanax, Adderall, Oxy, Cocaine). They induced almost the same feeling. Oxy and Xanax put me into a state of dismissive drowsiness that I am not very fond of. Cocaine and Adderall were almost identical in how they induced energetic highs with a trace of overzealous aggression, when tapped into. All of these drugs gave me the ability to draw off of a spectrum of emotions that I normally couldn't. I appreciated it, but wasn’t fully convinced that they were going to be beneficial to my quest of self-discovery. They eventually led to me being kicked out from under my mother's roof and my current homelessness. Nevertheless, I am complacent. Without a working vehicle, I am unable to work as my position of delivery driver. I am currently stationed near a well-populated and budding town where I have access to nearly free food and Wi-Fi. I spend my days reading books in a local cafe that I steal from Barnes and Nobles. On weekends, I spend my time in the company of my female familiars that I've met during my drug and alcohol filled adventures with friends. My family does not know of my homelessness only because I feel that it will complicate things if they did.

Thursday, May 9, 2019

Seeing things as they really are

I've recently been having to sort of explain sociopaths to normal people a little more frequently. It's funny because normal people are really quick to kind of want to know not just about sociopaths objectively, but also want to know how they should feel about sociopaths. Like is it woke to be pro-sociopath? Remove the stigma? Or is there danger? I feel like everyone wants to know what should be the overall take from sociopaths. And it keeps catching me off guard. Because especially in the past couple years all I've been doing is trying to meet and understand sociopaths, the same way I might watch and try to understand leopards as an animal researcher or something. I don't form judgments. I notice how they operate and their strengths and weaknesses, but I don't really think "what's the general take away about leopards?" Nor do I feel like I have to sort of justify their existence or have any sort of reaction (much less emotional) about the fact of their existence. They just are a fact, is sort of how I want to respond.

And I think even if you eventually wanted to come up with some normative suggestion or application of what you learn about sociopaths, it's probably good to spend at least some time just observing objectively, to really understand before you jump to any conclusions.

I felt like this reader did a good job of this:

This feels risky because I don't feel I can trust a sociopath now that I have met one.

I don't know your name, I don't suppose it really matters.

I just came out of a 15 month relationship with a sociopath. I had no idea that was what he was until after the relationship ended and I only really feel confirmed in my non-clinical diagnosis after reading your book.

I had to do digging after he initially, flippantly broke up with me over the phone after being so loving and kind for 15 months, and then called back a few days later and swore he wasn't seeing anyone else and wanted to re-visit the situation when he returned to town, and THEN proceeded to block my calls and texts. He had given me details of his mom's illness. And he had started a private Facebook account.

Through his mom's Facebook and one photo she had and tagged him in I found his "newish" relationship (started before he broke up with me) and the fact that his mom wasn't. Through his sister's Facebook I found the woman who was sick. I reached out to both. The new relationship was very new but I was quick to realize that every trip away during the time I was with him involved another relationship, some very short, some probably in search of a situation in Texas that would accommodate his need for a comfy home and a willing, gullible partner. And of course, he was seeing the woman who was sick the whole time (the illness was new though).

The woman who is sick had been in his life for the past 7 years and had known of his incessant lies, his incredible charisma, and his proclivity for multiple relationships during that whole time. She still was willing to shut her eyes to what was going on though and had not known about me. His mother confirmed to me herself that no, she was never ill.

The woman in another state had also been told his mother was sick. Whatever lies he told her about myself and the woman who really has is sickand the fact that his mom isn't sick, she is willing to believe him.

Looking back, of course, I can see clearly that when he left constantly to walk the dog, run to the bathroom, smoke, it was all a cover to make calls to other women. He called me almost every day during that 15 months so that is how he handled them as well. I can also tick of 100's of lies. The woman who is sick and I have met and compared notes - she can tick off 1,000's. It seems obvious to me in retrospect, but I had no context for the reality of a sociopath in my life, before this.

In reading your book I have come to realize that, though my reality is totally altered, I do not have the right to wish this person harm (even though I did at first). He is delusional. He writes the way you sometimes write - in contradictions. With you I mostly see it when you declare you have no fear of consequences, yet you lie. You lie to keep your cover. What do you need a cover for unless you fear consequences? I know that since that writing things have come out and there have been consequences and you seem to have survived them.

What hurt me the most was the lies. I wanted to stay friends with him. The lies made it impossible. And I have no idea, and never will, if he would even enjoy these multitude of relationships without the lies. He felt SO REAL to me. The woman who is sick describes him the same way, and because she's known him longer and he has been more honest with her than with anyone else he is probably more real with her than anyone else.

But I don't think he could ever have a relationship with anyone without the thrill of the lie.
He never showed his anger to me. Looking back I can see the times when he was hiding it. He does go into rages with the woman I have talked to.
I feel sorry for him. One time I told him that and it made him angry (in the very subdued way he would get angry with me). But then I was only feeling sorry for him because I thought he seemed to shut down his emotions. Now I feel sorry for him because reading your book makes him seem like a very lost, lonely soul.

I know you say it doesn't bother you, so I guess it shouldn't bother me because I guess it doesn't bother him. I know you are much smarter than him and much more high-functioning. He never physically harmed me and never stole from me. In fact he probably
gave more materially than I ever gave him. I think he probably takes pride in that (though I returned everything that could be returned when he was out of town).  

It just occurs to me that the lies aren't just for other people, they are also for the sociopath. The sociopath seems to constantly be trying to define who they are with no clear internal signal, "no clear path" is something he would always say. So the lie is the only direction they have, which is no direction at all (often doubling back even)..... which for me is the same as constantly being lost, and never truly being real.

Thank you for your book. It helped me understand.

My response:

It’s interesting what you say about contradictions because I’ve started seeing that more as I’ve hung around sociopaths. They’re not aware of the contradictions. Or sometimes part of them is. Their perspective is like that of cubists. It’s distorted in its own way like maps of the world— their reality is distorted in a particular way that suits them best but it ends up making Antarctica look huge. It’s part of the personality disorder just like the weak sense of self, which you described as being the reason for the lies. 

Saturday, January 25, 2014

The natural born chameleon?

My friend recently told me, "I think it's funny that you are so impressionable, that you think of yourself as a void, because you are one of the strongest personalities I know. You are so distinctive and peculiar."

I could see what she meant. Everyone who knows me for longer than a few hours realizes that I am "quirky." I say all the right words and do all the right moves, but don't quite have the social fluency to seem completely normal. I can also be very lazy about maintaining a mask, particularly in low risk situations or with people who don't matter. Despite seeming distinctive and peculiar, however, I am still extremely impressionable.

Some of the psychologists that I have talked to via the blog have expressed surprise that I consider impressionability and the related weak-sense-of-self to be sociopathic traits. I don't know why they would be surprised. There must be some reason why we are so good at being chameleons, I always just assumed that it was instinctive, a symptom of who I am. Blending in has more or less been a reflex for me as long as I can remember, as it has been for most sociopaths I have known. For instance, this reader:
I moved a lot as a child. I knew how to adapt a fresh persona and ways to gain friends in an expedient fashion before I knew my long division. I also was obliged to lie, convincingly so, about who I was. For years I wasn't even allowed to use my own name and acknowledge where I was from.

When you speak of impressionability, that for me was sort of a survival tactic. America has many different cultural microcosms that vary so much, if they didn't speak English you'd guess it was a different country. I had to learn the local social norms and adapt to them quickly, and also their accents and local lexicon. Even more lizard-brain style mannerisms would be local, like specific body language gestures. In that case, I guess it isn't necessarily lizard-brain, but you understand.

I essentially spent years learning how to be other people. So much so, that I had no idea who I even was when I was allowed to be Me again. I still don't even know if I have a real Me. And it doesn't bug me, either, if anything, it entertains me.

I know for a fact that I did some very odd antisocial behavior, like practice emoting in front of a mirror, accents, etc. but when I was that age, I didn't realize that everyone came with their own emotional cheat-sheet, and I was the only one that had to study for the test.
When I read things like this or think back on my own early experiences, I wonder -- do we learn how to be chameleons? Is it learned behavior to subjugate who we "really are," perhaps as a survival tactic? And maybe after we've pretended for so many years we just forget who we used to be? Or are we born with our shapeshifting abilities? Maybe we're like liquids or gases, always taking on the shape of our environment. Because we do have some finite qualities, we just have no where near the rigidity of the typical empath.
Join Amazon Prime - Watch Over 40,000 Movies

.

Comments are unmoderated. Blog owner is not responsible for third party content. By leaving comments on the blog, commenters give license to the blog owner to reprint attributed comments in any form.