Am I Some Sort of Sociopath?
Question by Josip I: Am I some sort of sociopath?
Yeah, yeah, wait a second before you type that old “stoopid you’re not a sociopath, you’re a pimply angst-ridden teenager” response I know your fingers are itching at. I ask this question only with curiosity at exactly what one would define what goes on in my head, not with some desire to be validated by people of yahoo answers as some sort of ultimate badass.
I don’t have moods, really. I have phases of relatively light-hearted optimism, and periods of destructive dysphoria, but these only last a few hours at very most. 90% of the time I don’t really have a general feeling about me. I can be paranoid, especially if I vandalize or otherwise deface property and I leave loose ends tied up, even if the specific anxiety is obviously irrational. However, when I have a truly desired goal in mind, all anxiety disappears, at least for the time being. I do not know what guilt feels like, I don’t know what shame even means, and I have never experienced any truly meaningful empathy or sympathy. I had a flash of something for my cat once as I contemplated burying him alive in a shoebox, but if I had been angry at him it would not have happened, and my capacity for empathy really only makes my sadism more pleasurable. (Something which has been found in high intelligence sociopaths is that they have above normal levels of empathy, but, like with me, it only serves a sadistic purpose. This is actually why the idea of sociopathy came to my mind.)
At 16 and 3 months my Wechsler IQ was measured at 153. I don’t think like normal people, and normal people tend not to understand my motives in situations. I cannot be bothered to totally explain my psyche for them, and consequently my actions are often thought of as unjust or amoral, when I was simply serving a drive I was incapable of resisting. These drives, which feed the aforementioned goals, often manifest as desires for sadism, dominance, control, strength, and worship. They are the only things in my life that I truly care about, although I do often also engage in more purely hedonistic pursuits. If any person goes against these particular desires of mine, I am filled with extreme anger. It is strong and brief like a summer storm. For these reasons, at bit before 17 years of age, I already have an extensive history of drug abuse and physical violence, and a long, though undocumented, list of instances of organized psychological assaults in my past. If a person is not available for revenge, my next target is animals. Stray cats are among my favorite victims, though I’ve never killed one before a person heard its cries and ventured over to investigate.
I have no emotional attachment to my family or friends. There is no one in the world that I actually like. It’s understandable even in the context of a normal psyche that I would have attachment issues, however, since my mother rarely showed me affection during my childhood, and I spent most of my time with only toys and a little smelly dog. Still, I naturally lure people under my influence, even when I don’t try. Those close to me don’t ever show disapproval of my actions for fear of seeming weak. Despite my disconnection from most of humanity, I am normally able to understand every facet of a person’s psyche with extreme ease. I often use this when I manipulate or take revenge on people; once I used a girl’s childhood history of sexual abuse to precisely target the vulnerable facets of her personality (trust, self-image, etc.) and take revenge for her crimes against me.
Despite my natural leadership abilities, I often feel like other people are above me. Intellectually, I would never be able to come up with a justification for this, and I would say that I am simply a superior type of human, but deep down I feel as though people loathe me, hate me, and are disgusted by me. I feel like the world is just waiting for the second it can turn against me. Lately, however, this and my paranoia have begun to dissipate, since I developed the ability to imagine what other people are thinking and it has given me much confidence. I have even begun to feel superior other people in many instances.
But some behaviors I have exhibited still puzzle me, though the above may explain them. At 15 I had a girlfriend whom I was relatively devoted to. At one point I lost all interest in her and became attracted to her friend, but then I consciously willed myself to be attracted to my girlfriend again, though I don’t remember any reason for it other than that it was easier than seducing the friend instead. I don’t think I would have grieved if she died, but I truly did enjoy being loved, and not in the dominant Machiavellian fear-love sense for once, and when it ended I was unhappy for a day or two. Later on I would screw around with her again, and even then it bothered me when she seemed to distance herself and stop acting as though she genuinely cared for me. Does this mean I’m not a truly heartless being? I’ll be honest, I really enj
I’ll be honest, I really enjoy the idea that I’m devoid of human caring. It’s the only thing that gives me real, consistent satisfaction in life. The girl did anger me one day and I planned to tear her vulnerable psyche to pieces, but I wasn’t able to carry it out before I was forced to discharge my anger on a stray cat. I once had a dream (rare for me) that I was having a conversation with her in my bathroom mirror where I repeatedly shouted and cursed at her, and I presume this means that my interactions with her became a reflection of my self-image, to try to alleviate my above feelings of ostracization and persecution. But I figure it’s also possible that I don’t want to believe I actually cared, and have just come up with a rationalization.
So, I come to you with my (slightly too long) query. I asked this to mental health yesterday, and the most knowledgeable sounding answer I received said that I should see if I could kill a cat, but there weren’t any slow ones last night.
I told the truth here because I want to know if I’m really capable of what I think I am. I still had to read over it a few times to take out the lies that slipped through though.
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