Sunday, June 14, 2009

Update: Am I a Sociopath?

From our questioning reader (or reader in question):
I must admit, this week has been rather amazing so far. I haven't had much trouble with anxiety. My job hasn't stressed me. I feel just fine not caring, and it's amazing how naturally responses to tough questions come to me if I'm not putting specific effort into being honest. Even talking to women has been strangely easier. Almost too easy. I'm used to women staying away from me as if they get "bad vibes," but now I'm being told that I'm easy to open up to. One woman told me she felt like she could tell me anything, because I was so "honest." I definitely need more practice before I can get to the level where I want to be, but I can see it happening.

I'm not sure why or how, but I've started to think of life more like a game again. It's not a change I consciously strove for, and it's very subtle. But it's a pleasant change from the anxieties I've been facing. While I found myself laughing and joking around today, I stopped to think if I was actually happy or amused. Honestly, I didn't feel any different from when I was sitting in front of my computer coding. I was just joking with my boss to avoid concentrating on work, and it came so naturally. That's one thing I've always done, but I never really stopped to think about the smile and the laugh. They're not real. The jokes aren't real. They're just there to make HIM laugh. Even while I was realizing this, I just kept right on doing it.

It reminds me of when I was younger... sometimes, while I was crying, if I was alone, I would go look in the mirror and smile. I genuinely felt sad, but something made me want to see if I could smile. And I could... and then pick right back up crying again. After that, I had quite a preoccupation with making myself exhibit inappropriate emotions in private. Looking back, it makes me wonder if I was ever sad at all. Such a curiosity doesn't strike me as something a sad person would embrace in the midst of an emotional storm. Trying to figure out how much of what I think I felt was real, and how much was either extremely shallow or manufactured subconsciously, has been very confusing.

In my early to mid teens, this fascination took on a stranger twist. It's something I've actually never mentioned to anyone, because I can't imagine how anyone could understand it, considering my image as a kind, considerate, and highly intelligent person. When I was alone, if I had nothing to do, I would degrade into an almost feral state. I'd run and leap around the house, sometimes on all fours, growling, roaring, and making terrible and strange faces after leaping in front of a mirror, staring myself in the eye. I could never imagine myself even imitating this behavior in front of another human being. As soon as I sensed the presence of another person, my demeanor would immediately change. I've never been able to make sense of it. It stopped after I started the drugs. Bizarre, don't you think?

That's my update so far. We'll see how things play out.

Friday, June 12, 2009

Who do you love?

Question from a reader, my answers are in bold:
I broke up with my boyfriend a few days ago because after many lies I became suspicious and logged on to a few of his accounts and found out that he had also been cheating. This man told me he loved me within 3-4 weeks of meeting me. Has constantly told me how beautiful and sexy I was. Had a sex drive that was incredible. We could have sex several times a day and he would still masturbate. He could have orgasms one after the other up to 4 in a row. During all of this he was seeing another woman who he had started an affair with prior to me once a week at lunch. He wanted me to have his baby, wanted to move in with me. Said I could stay home with the child and not work. Everythink that I wanted he swore he wanted too. A little farm in the country, yes, organic food, yes. He knew my ex had pushed me to have an abortion so he was going to have his vasectomy reversed so that we could have a child together. This is a classic example of how sociopaths are so inherently flexible. They have the ability to become whatever they want. Whatever you want, if you strike their fancy. I mean, really, what are the chances of this man wanting a farm in the country, organic food, etc.? Clearly a sociopath.

All of this while lying constantly, texting other women on a regular basis, having a long term affair with another. He is a heavy pot smoker, heavy drinker. He believes he is very intelligent. The things that make me question whether he was a sociopath are that he was in the navy for 8 years. The military would be a good "legitimate" outlet for his destructive, thrill-seeking ways, and power-seeking behavior. He probably didn't mind taking orders from one person as long as he knew he could lord it over another larger group.
Married for 10 but she left him because of his constant lying, pot addiction and bursts of anger. She said it was like dealing with Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde. He has a great job now that he has had for several years and seems to be fairly conscientious about it. He screws off a lot but he has a lot of responsiblity and seems to take it seriously when necessary. Yeah, high-functioning sociopaths do this. They have a concept of not defecating where they eat. They will keep certain things stable in their life and find outlets for their deviant behavior in ways that are less likely to backfire on them.
After breaking up with him he denied for several days even though I had written proof and then went from being angry and mean to begging me to give him another chance from one hour to the next. He swears that his D day for being the man that I deserved was when he was moving in (just a few after I caught him) but I assume it is all just more lies. I mean, what is a lie really? Sounds like he wants you in his life, just maybe not on terms that you would prefer. What do you want to hear from him? That he is dedicated to you in his way? Sounds like he is. That he can be dedicated to you in a way that normal people can? Sounds like he can't. What role does honesty have when you are asking him to be someone he is not or else you will take away something very valuable to him. Wouldn't we all "lie" to prevent that from happening? Even if just to ourselves? Did you ever lie to yourself in the relationship?

Does that sound like a Sociopath or is there something closely related that has more bearing? Sociopath, although you have given me just a handful of choice facts. Who knows what is really going on in his mind.

It really shouldn't matter but for some stupid reason if it is based on an actual condition maybe I don't have to feel like such an idiot for buying into what he was selling. Were you an idiot? Am I an idiot if I watch an inane blockbuster movie and get a few laughs? Maybe you were just enjoying yourself. At least the sex, right?

He made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world and swore I made him a better man but his actions were so the opposite. See, why would you go questioning the fact that you are the most beautiful woman in the world. Can't he think that and behave as he did? If he is a sociopath he can. Is his behavior really so inconsistent? I mean, polyamory is not for everyone, but it's not so out there. I'm just saying, does it matter more to you how he feels about you and how he treats you? Or what he does when you are not around? Does he have to be his "real" self all the time? And if he was, would you even like him still?

I am self diagnosing him but I thought I would look for a little feedback.

Thanks.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

Fearmongering called out

Reader D. Birdick shares a pretty charming book review of one of the more alarmist of pop sociopath "literature":
Hey, how goes it?

I came across this review of Martha Stout's book The Sociopath Next Door on Amazon that I thought you might find amusing and even a bit insightful:

Dark Mechanicus JSG "Black Ops Teep"
Welcome to my World!

Yep, many have called me a sociopath in my day. Only one of them, however, got to say something after that, and that was only because the gun jammed.

Ha! Ha! Kidding. Martha Stout has put together this slender little tome, packed with pop science and plenty of white desert-like margins, that sets out to let you know that:

1)Four percent of the population exhibits sociopathic qualities. For the mathematically challenged---that is, pretty much 96% of the population---that means 1 out of 25.

Think about that statistic for a minute.Take an office with 25 people, and chances are Herbie the Courier Guy or Roald (you know, Roald, the guy with glasses and the shaky sweaty hands, the Quiet One. Roald. Sheesh) has invested in some XP-142 Night Vision goggles and a serrated knife, and, um, a GPS device that might lead him to your front door.

At 2 in the morning. Just so we're clear.

2) These sociopath guys, like the Wu-Tang Clan, ain't nothing to mess with. No sir. They can't love. They don't feel emotion. They're Republican. They're corporate chieftains. They ride in the Lear, the Limo, the Maybach. They invented War. They smear cats with napalm, then duct tape them to the underside of your car, right by the rear exhaust, with a tricked-out bic lighter just waiting for ignition.

Sorry, I made that last one up. But you get the general gist of the book.

"Sociopath Next Door" is simply not scholarly, and verges on dangerous. Sociopath is a pop-term, like psycho, like axe-murderer, like boogeyman, El Diablo, or Janet Reno, with about the same level of erudition & exactness. It's jarring to see the term used so callously. Isn't it dangerous to fling terms and profiles, particularly ones as crudely formed and ill-defined as this, in what is essentially piece of pulp pop-science?

"Sociopath" even tries to put together a home-made psycho alarm for the Gentle Reader, the better to ferret out whether weird Mr. Fishbein, the crazy coot who lies next door, lies awake on his bed at nights dressed only in a giant plastic baggy whispering to his AK-47 and plotting your demise. Guess what should set off alarm bells & unleash the hounds?

That's right: someone who asks for pity. For mercy. For clemency. A pity-junky, according to this book, is a ravening sociopath probably plotting to get you fired, pour acid on your car, and eat your firstborn child with some fava beans and a fine chianti.

"Sociopath" also spends some time talking about the supposed human superstition against killing: according to her, people really kill only when supervised by (you guessed it!) a drooling sociopath. The irony here: the author indicates one means by which men make their subjects kill is by de-humanizing the Other: using language to demonize, to turn the Outsider, the Pariah, the Unclean (usually some target ethnic or religious group), into an "It".

It's a fair point.. But skim her book, and simply replace sociopath with any ethnic epithet and take a look at how it reads. Avoid the devilish sociopaths. They don't feel. They're not human. They have cold blood. They're killers. Four percent of the planet is responsible for all the rape, the killing, the torture, and the endless popularity of David Hasselhoff.

Hasn't this book demonized sociopaths as brutally, as unfairly, as unjustly, as anything any Monster of History did with their fave victim class? Where's the Love for the American Psycho? Are we not also Human? Cut* us, do we not bleed? Cut us twice, do we not make you bleed more?

But what "Sociopath" edges away from is the really interesting question here: what if sociopathy is not a malady? What if it's evolution? What if the guy who doesn't get all weepy over "Beaches" is really Humanity New New Thing, the silver-suited astropath who will transcend this miserable mortal coil and help us defeat the Ichthyoid Nasties from Betelgeuse 14?

In the meantime, using the book's 'method' for spotting psychos is about as useful as playing spin the bottle. Intuition, instinct, and your own experience probably cuts the mustard, and you don't have to waste your money on this one-way ticket to Paranoia. Granted, instinct isn't perfect.

But it sure beats fretting over whether your trip next door to borrow the lawnmower should include a can of mace, a sawed-off 12 gauge, and kevlar body armor.

JSG

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Am I a sociopath? (part 6)

My long response:
Sorry I haven't written back sooner. I have been thinking a lot about what you wrote, though. Your story has reminded me so much of my own, and you are hitting this self-recognition point right about the same age that I did. I didn't start hitting my first rough patches in life or in interactions with others until my late teens, early twenties. Like you, whenever I had problems, I would doubt myself, wonder whether maybe things needed to change, maybe I needed to see the world a little differently -- but stuff would calm down and I was pretty Burkean about things -- if it ain't broke, don't fix it. I really had a skewed view of the world, too. I was so self-deceived. I felt like I was two people: I was the person I pretended to be, and I was the person I feared I was. I would snap back and forth between the two like Jekyll and Hyde. When I was trying to be good, by playing by the rules, I would be Jekyll, when things weren't going my way or I felt that other people were "cheating," I turned into Hyde. It's funny, by avoiding who we are as sociopaths, by trying to ignore or avoid our natural tendencies to manipulate and wear masks, we become even more manipulative and masked. We try to be something we are not, try to convince others that we are something we are not, we think our "emotional" reactions to things are justified and act accordingly, when really they are just Jekyll-crazy claims that we take as if they came from honest-Hyde. Do you know what I mean? It's one thing to hear voices telling us to kill people and realize that it is a hallucination, a side effect of a malfunctioning brain. It is quite another thing to hear the voice and think it is god telling us what we need to do. When we pretend that we aren't sociopaths, we take information and perceptions we receive with our sociopath brain and interpret it under what we think are empath rules. What we end up with is a ticking time bomb of self-deception and totally misguided beliefs and irrational behavior -- we literally act like we are crazy.

As a concrete and personal example of what I'm talking about, although I was widely respected and accomplished as a teenager, I never had close friends through my teenage years. After a long period of time in isolation due to my studies, I realized how important human interaction was compared to academic or professional achievements . When I reentered society, I put a huge emphasis on personal relationships, particularly friendship and camaraderie, but in what I see now as a very sterile, selfish way. Because of my natural skills, it was very easy to make friends -- I could be whatever they wanted. Plus I seemed to have everything and, despite that, still wanted to be their friend. People were flattered, but mere months in the friendship I would tire of things being always about them. Their faults would bother me, I would be mean, they would react poorly, things would escalate to the point of me flipping a switch to a total remorseless, vengeance-minded sociopath. I would pour out the wrath, and the other person would never be the same. I felt bad whenever this happened. I tried to figure out what went wrong, but always through my same lenses of self-deception. Kind of like your experience: "I've always reached a point of terror and confusion, and then I'd force everything to the back of my mind and go on trying to be a normal person." I would always go back to the same way of doing things, the same way of thinking. But I was increasingly afraid of myself, what I could do to people -- what I did do to people. I felt out of control. I started warning friends to watch out for me. The pattern continued until I had my own personal version of scorched earth. I retreated from society again and really tried to figure out this time what was happening, who I was. This time I was truly open to any real possibility.

What I came up with at the time was that I was different, I was special. Or perhaps more accurately, I had special powers and abilities, and that made me different. I felt like the proverbial superhero myth, originated with tales of the gods. Like Superman, like Heracles, (like Harry Potter even?), like so many other people born with talents for writing, theatre, dance, music, I seemed normal at first, indistinguishable from anyone else, really. But I wasn't -- I had a gift. That's how I thought of it back then. Just as I would think it was a waste if Bach had never written a note, Dickens had never written a line, etc. etc., I knew I had a responsibility to magnify my talents. Maybe this sounds grandiose or narcissistic, but it helped me to accept myself at the time, helped me reform good habits of dealing with myself and others. And it is true. The world needs people like us. We fulfill a very special function -- we have been evolutionary selected over millenia. And we are rare. That makes us very powerful, and yes, very special. Hating sociopaths is like hating a wildfire. We may seem destructive, but we pave the way for growth and renewal by rebooting the land back to a more pure state.

I would write more, answer questions from your earlier emails, but not now. Soon. But keep me informed. I am very happy for you.

Best,
M.E.

Monday, June 8, 2009

Am I a sociopath? (part 5)

Our questioning reader:
Hello again.

This will be the last message I send unless you see fit to send a reply. I've done a lot of thinking over the past couple days, and I do believe I'm a sociopath. While I often seek out the affection and acceptance of others, I never truly feel anything in return. If they reject me, and I feel hurt, it's only at being denied something I want. I do have a lot of the symptoms associated with aspergers syndrome; however, people with AS do seem to have a sense of right and wrong, along with affection for others. I'm quite indifferent to anything that happens to anyone other than myself, unless it happens to me. Even my family members mean very little to me, and I usually only contact them to alleviate boredom, maintain appearances, or get their help with something.

I think the bulk of my confusion was caused by my desire to be liked and accepted. I wanted to believe that I was a normal human being, not a beast who deserved to be treated poorly. These desires, along with the anxiety I felt, served not only as motivators for my self-deception, but also as a mechanism for denial. Surely, a sociopath wouldn't have such intense reactions to such things.

Reading your site, and quite a few others, has really started to opened my eyes. I'm beginning to see that Sociopaths aren't the heartless creatures portrayed by the media. We do have feelings, even if we aren't capable of genuine affection, empathy, guilt, or remorse. As such, having them doesn't necessarily preclude a person from being a sociopath, nor does being a sociopath mean that we must take pleasure in causing pain for others.

I think I'm starting to realize that it's okay to be what most would consider fake, because my desires and methods are what truly define me, and my masks are a part of that. Whether I've wanted to or not, for the past five years, I've been finding traits I admire in people and consciously adding them to my repertoire, albeit not as successfully as the type of sociopath you see in the movies. It's all I knew how to do. I think my failures are almost certainly due to a conflict between my natural inclinations toward manipulation and my fear of being a subhuman husk.

In the process, I feel I've also been denying myself the core of my potential: sheer tenacity.

Today, I allowed myself to put on masks which I didn't try to believe in myself. It felt so natural. It felt so liberating. It didn't leave me feeling drained like trying to mix assimilated personality traits with constant honesty and identity checks. I feel like I have a lot of catching up to do before I can do this consistently and effectively, but it was such a relief to do it at all. It made me feel at peace.

I'd like to apologize for the confused emails I sent you before. This struggle to understand myself has been raging for several years now, on and off. I've always reached a point of terror and confusion, and then I'd force everything to the back of my mind and go on trying to be a normal person. This time, I've reached what I believe to be a conclusion, and it's largely due to what I've read on your site.

I no longer fear myself.
I don't feel so alone.
I no longer feel defective.

Thank you.
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