Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Dating other sociopaths


From a reader asking if it is a good idea for sociopaths to date other sociopaths:

My reasons for thinking we're a perfect match:

1)   Point: We need a challenge; everyone else is just too easy to win over. 

      Personal experience: When friends ask me how I do it, I shrug and say something banal because it is useless to try to explain. I feel that “game” is a skill that is fine-tuned throughout life, and even a lifetime of practice will not be of desired effect unless one already possesses an uncanny knack for reading body language, understanding weaknesses and individual needs, deciphering subliminal clues people unknowingly give off, and minimal emotional involvement. The ease at which I get what I want can actually be frustrating. I usually lose interest right after I acquire my target's complete attention and/or whatever I need from him. As I slowly let it go (so as not to burn bridges just in case I ever need that bridge again), I usually get some sort of a love confession. It’s a nice ego boost, but it honestly annoys me. Maybe it annoys me because it reminds me that I am incapable of feeling anything back. More likely, it’s because I have to waste my energy trying to let him down easy. Yet even more likely, it's probably because it reinforces the fact that I'm failing in my search for another of equal mindset. 

      Rationale: Dating another sociopath would be much more invigorating, as it would be a constant challenge for one another’s attention. As stated in Robert Greene’s “The Art of Seduction”, the most successful couples are those in which both people have mastered seduction. Without this, we get bored. We need a game, and an incompetent opponent is no fun after the first round. 

2)   Point: Save the emotional acts.

      Personal experience: I do manipulate, but I do recognize that if I want to remain in respectable societal standing, I have to play towards the emotions of the people I deal with. In my past relationships, I have had to fake what I am not feeling (i.e. pretend to comfort the guy when he’s upset, force myself to do the whole stare-into-each-other’s-eyes thing, convince him that I feel the same way, etc.) I’m not sure if there are other socios out there that feel this, but strong expressions of love and sadness are the two emotions I feel the most phony mimicking. I can literally feel the insincerity seeping out of my pores. Near the end of relationships my tolerance for such acts fizzles out, and I am accused of not caring…and since I generally don’t, he ends up hurt. While I have never felt sorrow or regret from this, I also do not want to leave a trail of broken hearts behind me. It’s essentially damaging my reputation and whatever connections I might need to make in the future. 

      Rationale: Tending to a lover’s emotions is tiresome and an enormous waste of time. Dating a sociopath would eliminate this rollercoaster of ridiculous emotional performances, and we would be able to live in drama-free harmony. Paradoxically, it would actually be a more honest relationship. 

3)   Point: We are attracted to those who are both book-smart and street-smart.

      Personal experience: I am attracted to intellect and power, and I assume that most other socios are as well. I’d rather marry an ugly but manipulative and successful genius than a sexy-as-hell but dumb-as-a-rock superstar. I saw that you mentioned the 48 Laws of Power. I cannot discuss this book with anyone I know. They lack the ability to see the rules as one entity from which we must derive certain principles, based on what our situation and goals are. I consider craftiness along with the ability to gauge situations and handle them with appropriate tact to be my definition of "street-smart". Lacking this quality is a complete turn-off for me. Being book-smart is also essential for my attraction to another; if I feel that I am capable of getting better grades on a factually-based exam than someone, I can't take them seriously. In my dealings with dating, I have come across only one person who has mastered both areas. I have insincerely told several people throughout my life that I "love" them (usually out of obligated reciprocation); I'm unsure of what my take on love is, but I can honestly say that what I feel for that one person is closer to love than what I've felt for anyone else.

      Rationale: There are plenty of book-smart people out there. There are also plenty of street-smart people. To have both is rare- and those who have both have an edge over everybody else. Most socios are able to recognize this potential for success, for they possess it within themselves. Naturally, we are attracted to excellence. Therefore, we are attracted to other sociopaths.

4)   Point: Being a "chameleon" can only be understood by others like us.

      Personal experience: I change my persona depending on what I need and who I am around. My groups of friends are eclectic and from all walks of life. In the past, when the guy I'm with at the time has met a group of friends who views me differently than he does, disaster ensued. "Who are you?", "You didn't tell me you used to do such-and-such things",  "I talked to so-and-so...I don't even know you", and so on. I am forced to purposely avoid letting my significant other meet certain people or hear certain things, in an attempt to maintain his view of who I am to him.

     Rationale: Who we date is usually a frequent escort. That being said, it is difficult for someone who isn't a social chameleon to get along with more than one group of your friends- or anyone who sees you in a different light than your lover does. Dating another sociopath means that he/she will easily fit into your eclectic groups of acquaintances. He/she will understand the necessity of mimicking and will be able to recognize when it is being done. He/she will also be able to mimick, which eliminates the "why do your friends hate me?" mediation and the "what was that all about?" explanations. He/she will understand that the "you" that you are pretending to be is just an act.

      I could probably continue, but I'll wait for some feedback first. Please do note that I am presenting this from theories I've derived from my own experiences. Also note that I am not referring to full-blown psychopaths, sadists, or those that might only date to extort things from/harm the other. Rather, I am referencing "mild" sociopaths like myself, who understand self-interest and are frustrated with dating simpletons.

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Nerves

I tell people I don't get nervous. They ask why my voice sometimes shakes or I have other physical symptoms of nerves and anxiety. Ok, it's a bit of an exagerration to say I don't get nervous. Yes, my body gets nervous. Or it gets ready for whatever risky situation I am planning on subjecting it to. But my mind doesn't interpret that emotionally and think -- wow, I'm nervous.

This NY Times article about the body's reaction to risks explains it well:

To get an inkling of how this physiology works, consider the following scenario, in which a trader grapples with a rumor that the Fed may raise rates later that afternoon:

As 2:15 — the time of the announcement — approaches, trading on the screens dwindles. The floor goes quiet. The trader feels intellectually prepared. But the challenge he faces requires more than cognitive skill. He needs fast reactions, and energy for the hours ahead.

Consequently, his metabolism speeds up, ready to break down energy stores in liver, muscle and fat cells. Breathing accelerates, drawing in more oxygen, and his heart rate speeds up. Cells of the immune system take up position at vulnerable points of the body, ready to deal with injury and infection. And his nervous system, extending from the brain down into the abdomen, redistributes blood — constricting flow to the gut, giving him butterflies, and to the reproductive organs, since this is no time for sex — shunting it to major muscle groups in the arms and thighs as well as to the lungs, heart and brain.

The announcement will bring volatility, and a chance to make money. The trader feels a surge of energy as steroid hormones are synthesized by their respective glands and injected into his bloodstream. Steroids are powerful, dangerous chemicals — they change almost every detail of body and brain: his growth rate, lean-muscle mass, mood, even the memories he recalls — and for that reason their use is tightly regulated by the International Olympic Committee and the hypothalamus, the brain’s drug enforcement agency.

These past hours, the trader’s testosterone levels have been climbing. This steroid hormone, produced by men (and, in lesser quantities, by women) primes the trader for the challenge ahead, just as it does athletes preparing to compete and male animals to fight. Rising levels increase confidence and, crucially, appetite for risk. For the trader this is a moment of transformation, what the French since the Middle Ages have called “the hour between dog and wolf.”

The stress hormones adrenaline and cortisol surge out of the adrenal glands, and the cortisol travels to the brain, where it stimulates the release of dopamine, a chemical operating along neural circuits known as the pleasure pathways. At high levels, cortisol provides a nasty, stressful experience. But in small amounts, in combination with dopamine — one of the most addictive drugs known to the human brain — it delivers a narcotic hit, a rush that convinces traders that there is no other job in the world.

Finally, at 2:14, the trader leans into his screen, pupils dilated, breathing rhythmic, muscles coiled, body and brain fused for impending action. An expectant hush descends on global markets.

This scenario illustrates just how sensitive the body is to information. We do not regard prices on a screen as a computer would, dispassionately; we react physically. Our body and brain rev up and down together, and this natural fusion makes us better risk-takers.

So yes, my body does respond to risk. And it can't just keep taking a beating. So even though my mind can handle things, sometimes my body can't, and vice versa.


Monday, February 4, 2013

Lance Armstrong and keeping secrets

People think he's a sociopath. I don't know, I just don't get the vibe from him. But I did relate to him in another way. I also have a secret that I keep from almost everybody, even people I genuinely like or even admire. For various reasons, I have been contemplating telling more people about me (not something I generally recommend, but they're probably going to find out from third parties and it seems like it's better if it comes from me).

I was reading an interview of Matthew McConaughey of all people, weighing in on the Lance Armstrong admissions and how it felt to be lied to:




"My first reaction was I was pissed off," he said, explaining that he wanted to be "delicate" in how he addressed the scandal. "I was mad. I then got kind of sad for him. First off, I had a part of me that took it kind of personally, which I think a lot of people have."

"For him, it was impersonal because he was living a lie," McConaughey added. "It was a whole unanimous facade he had to carry around."
***
"What I realized is that those of us that took that personally, like, 'Oh, he lied to me,' it's not true," said McConaughey. . . . "What I mean by this is, what was he supposed to do? Call me to the side and go, 'Hey man, I did it but don't tell anybody.' Then I would have really had a reason to be pissed off at him, going, 'You want me to walk around holding this?'"

First of all, unanimous facade? That makes no kind of sense. But it's a good attitude to have. The thing is, yes, I've done horrible things to people or good things to people with horrible motivations. I'm not a good person. I don't really deserve the benefit of the doubt. But it's also true what McConaughey said -- it's (almost) never personal.

Sunday, February 3, 2013

All the world's a stage

From a reader:
In the "Handbook of Emotions," 3rd edition, chapter 3 (titled "The Sociology of Emotions") one can read under the section "Dramaturgical Approaches:"

"... These studies show how emotions are culturally scripted as to "when" to feel and "how" to express these feelings. Through the socialization process, individuals learn how to associate particular emotion vocabularies with specific eliciting situations, internal sensations, and expressive displays. [...] What makes this approach dramaturgical is that individuals are viewed as acting on a stage configured by social structure in front of an audience (of others). [...] However, individuals are more than dramatic actors manipulating emotions through expressive control in accordance with the feeling and display rules of culture. They are also strategists who present themselves to others, manipulating their forms of talk, role cues, bodies, staging props, and expressive display to their audience to realize their goals. [...] Various cognitive and behavioral strategies are available for managing emotions. [...] Cognitive strategies include invoking thoughts associated with the emotions demanded in the situation to shore up the emotions, using meditation to arouse the emotions dictated by the culture, or psychologically withdrawing from the situation to mask the incongruence between actual feelings and feelings expected in the situation..."

If that is the case, then the difference between neurotypical people and sociopaths seems to be one of degree, not quality.

Saturday, February 2, 2013

Eyes wide open

I spent years studying music. After a while my ears got very sensitive to even small differences in pitch. On the good side, I am a better musician because of it. I am more appreciative of people who play or sing truly well. But I am also very acutely aware of poor playing and singing. I hear bad singing on television and cringe. I go to church and hear bad music and lean forward with my head in my hands so no one will see my discomfort. I don't necessarily want to hear these things. Sometimes I wish I didn't hear them, especially when I don't have anything invested in the activity or can't change what's going on. In those instances, the knowledge is just wasted on me.

Sometimes hearing things no one else does even makes me a target of other people's distrust. One time I was involved in a performance using primitive instruments, each with a particular "pitch". The instruments were played as a group to form "melodies". Before the performance, the instruments must have gotten mixed up because when we started playing, parts of the melody were inverted. It nearly drove me crazy and as we walked off stage I immediately remarked to my colleagues on the issue. No one had noticed. They looked at my like I was loony. No one heard it. No one believed me. I don't know why, because they thought they heard something else? My word against what they thought they heard and they trusted their own senses more. A few days later we listened to the recording together. Everyone was watching me as someone pressed "play" -- either I was wrong or they were wrong and pretty soon we would know for certain. I was vindicated, but I wasn't happy about it. Not really. The didn't apologize. They looked at me like I was a witch.

It makes me trust people less too. Once I lost a competition to someone whom I thought was clearly playing out of tune. Because I believed that surely everyone else could hear how badly the intonation was, I thought there must be some other explanation for why his performance beat mine, something nefarious at work. I saw a conspiracy and cover up where there was none. It would be one thing if I could just convince myself that I  have idiosyncratic preferences that aren't shared by many people -- which is better, beer or wine? There's no certain answer in matters of opinion. But matters of pitch are objective. Either you are playing or singing the pitches that are being requested of you or you are not. A tuning machine would be able to make these fine distinctions and so can I, for all the good it does me.

As a child I saw and understood a lot of things that I know I was not supposed to. Even now I see things that I don't necessarily want to see. I see people's fear and their betrayal, how weak and unreliable their love is, how soft their convictions are. And especially when I was growing up I thought that a lot of the world must be corrupt. Because why didn't other people see these things and act accordingly? It seemed like a cover up. And when I mentioned it to people they didn't believe me. They thought that I was making things up, and in blatant bizarre ways. I learned to stop pointing these things out, but I did feel a bit like Alice in Wonderland.

By the way, does any one else hear the wrong notes in penultimate and ante-penultimate timpani pitches in the theme song for Fringe?


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