It's not always depression

From a reader:

I recently read your book. I finished it yesterday actually. It's full of little highlighted sections that I marked that sounded just like me. It was eerie how recognizable your experiences were and how closely they seemed to mirror mine. I did not cry at my uncle's funeral. I knew him very well and grew up with him. He got brain cancer and everyone was very upset - he was a very kind, loving man. I can't remember a single person besides me who didn't cry, but for whatever reason, I just couldn't force myself to. I didn't feel anything at all, except mild curiosity. Was he still around somewhere else, like heaven? What does it feel like to die? And what does it feel like to love someone so much you react like everyone around me was reacting at his funeral? 

I used to torture ants, absolutely fascinated by their pathetic struggles on the sidewalk when I smushed parts of their bodies to see how long they could continue dragging themselves along. I didn't realize it was cruel until someone reacted with disgust (probably my mother). Whenever someone reacted to me with disgust, I always responded the same way. I acted contrite and then continued doing whatever I was doing, but much more carefully to avoid detection. 

I was also a perpetual liar and still am. I love to charm people - to be the person they want me to be exactly, even if I might bend some truths and tell some tales in doing so. I get bored with people who become too dependent or too attached and throw them away. I'm underage, but not a virgin, despite never being in a lasting relationship (longer than 4 weeks). 

When I was younger, I was sadistic towards my little sister. I loved hitting her, pulling her thick curly hair, and watching her eyes well up with tears. Sometimes I would blame my misdeeds on her so my parents would punish her for things she wasn't guilty of. Sometimes I would simply cut her apart verbally. I don't remember exactly why I did this, just that I did, and for immense pleasure from it. 

I wouldn't call myself a bully currently and I've never done anything officially criminal (except maybe the underage sex or that one - or two - times I shoplifted), but I do blackmail people sometimes and love the power it gives me. I value power far above intimacy. I love to be feared, and there's something about me that either draws people in or repulses them, because there's something not quite right about me.

I would consider myself high functioning. I'm usually pretty good at faking emotion (except at the funeral). I lie constantly, but rarely get caught. When I fail to follow through on promises, I act adequately contrite. I'm good at guessing what others feel through careful observation. My mother is convinced I'm absolutely fine.

I've told you all of this because I genuinely believe myself to be a sociopath. The above is all of my evidence that I am. However, I don't remember it myself, but my mother tells me I had irrational anxieties as a child. I was afraid of some things that made sense - like not 'fitting in' or being a 'freak' to my peers and aggressively tried to adapt correctly to avoid those things. I was also apparently afraid of bridges and grass, which I don't remember and don't understand. 

I have been diagnosed with seasonal affective disorder and depression. I do feel like I have less energy in the winter, and I know that my vitamin D levels are down, so seasonal affective is probably at least partially true. I feel bored a lot and fairly apathetic, but I'm not sure if I'm depressed. I often over exaggerate my sadness to get sympathy and favors from my parents. I also manipulated my therapist into sending me into the hospital by claiming to be suicidal because I didn't want to spend Christmas with my family before realizing how awful mental health wards are. 

I'm not actually sure how much of my depression/anxiety disorder symptoms are real and how much were simply manipulation. I feel like I can turn emotions on and off. If it's beneficial to cry, I can tap into sad emotions and bring myself to tears. If it's beneficial to stop crying, I become calm and no longer sad. I don't understand if I am sad or if I somehow manage to manipulate myself into feeling sad in order to cry in order to get things.

I'm emailing you because I know sociopaths are supposed to be immune to depression and anxiety so I'm wondering if you, knowing what you know, think I am a sociopath, or simply a delusional depressed girl who wants an easy explanation for her apathy and problems in life (such as difficulty relating to others). 

If I truly am a sociopath, it seems like my life will be fairly empty and flexible - ambiguous and spontaneous - which it is now. I'm wondering how you cope with the knowledge that you don't get to relate to people like others can or feel things that others can. Doesn't it bother you to know that others may be better off than you and you will never actually know whether or not they are? And if so, what do you do about it?

Thank you so much for your time and hopefully reply.

E.B.

From M.E.:

I don't think I have ever really put limits on what I am able and not able to do, even post diagnosis. To the extent that I describe myself in what may seem like a fixed way, it's more that I am trying to accurately describe myself in any moment, as you might describe the particular location or slope of a mathematical function with precision, all the while knowing that the function is constantly changing. 

I have had depression and anxiety symptoms. I have spoken with my current therapist about it. He says that depression and anxiety are common byproducts of an underlying issue. Let's say, for instance, you have been frustrated a long time. Or empty? The frustration or emptiness may eventually manifest themselves in a depressed mood if they persist. I think I taught myself, trained myself really, to be anxious. I found that I didn't naturally care for things that I should care for, so I trained myself to, the same way I trained myself as a musician to be really sensitive to fine changes in intonation and to abhor playing notes that are even slightly out of tune, when before when I was younger I wouldn't even notice it.

UPDATE: This is an interesting NY Times article about how depression can be symptoms of other issues (in this one, it is shame and lack of emotional awareness).