A reader writes:
Just read your book, and I thought it was fascinating stuff.
I have a question about Morgan, though. You talk about her losing her job, falling into eating disorders and drug abuse. You say you can't take all the "credit" for her decline, and I know you don't feel an ounce of remorse, but do you think her decline would have occurred if you had never met?
Just read your book, and I thought it was fascinating stuff.
I have a question about Morgan, though. You talk about her losing her job, falling into eating disorders and drug abuse. You say you can't take all the "credit" for her decline, and I know you don't feel an ounce of remorse, but do you think her decline would have occurred if you had never met?
My response:
Actually, in this case, I think it would have. You may be surprised to hear that we are still very good friends, we probably talk a few times a week on the phone. After she went to several treatment facilities and spend some time in 12 step programs, she really turned her life around and is now making six figures in a high-powered job with a side business that is her passion and that fulfills her creative outlets.
I certainly don't think that messing with her during that time somehow led her to this good result. But I do feel like as a result of our interactions she adopted a lot of my ways of thinking and looking at herself with a harsh brutality that allowed her to, finally when she was ready, look at herself with unflinching honesty and make the changes necessary -- to eliminate her personal obstructions to her success and continued growth as a person.
The thing is, and this is what I had hoped to communicate in the book but maybe was unclear on, people like that are seeking self-destruction and they will get it in any form, whether it is from me their friendly sociopath friend, or from drugs and alcohol, or from cutting, or from self sabotage of any other form that seems to appeal to them in that moment. When someone seems hellbent on self destruction, it's easy to villainize the drug dealer (or bartender? or Hostess cupcakes? or gambling establishments? or escort for hire?) or the the sociopath friend because they're a handy target but they're of course more the method than the root cause in a guns don't kill people sort of way. This may not actually be true, but I have found that people on this path to obliterate themselves or their life, at least partially and for whatever reason, will continue that way no matter what you do or how you react to them until they are ready themselves to change. I'd be very interested to hear other people's opinions about this, but am less interested in bystanders' random thoughts than from people who have actually experienced this first hand.
(It's a little popular on this blog to take the Sam Harris side of life and say that people don't have as much choice as we often think we do, but I think when it comes to people's involvement with sociopaths I think there is often more choice and responsibility there than some would like to acknowledge. It's not like sociopaths have an otherworldly superhypnosis ability to compel people into engaging in activities that they would never do without compulsion.)
Perhaps surprisingly, I think that because I was willing to indulge her on these activities rather being preachy, I am one of the few friends that she still has from that time period. With the other friends of that era, I believe that she either gave up on them, or they gave up on her. In fact, I know that I am one of only a few friends from longer than a couple years that she stays in regular contact with, and that she would consider me her best friend.
For some reason this reminded me of this recent comment on a not so fresh post:
My father is narcissistic. I was his favoured child, his very best billboard. Which is as much as to say I was the most codependent.
No one can keep up with my father.
I won't labour the details other than to say I was fertile ground for the most charming of seductive sociopaths.
That whole affair woke me the fuck up. I like referring to this gentleman (with whom I still work) as our Friendly Neighbourhood Psychopath (FNP).
He gave me the red pill stuffed inside a Koko Black chocolate. Delicious. He set me free in the Matrix while everyone else dreams. I see the world in an utterly different way now; in which society is a context rather than a constraint; that rules are mere control; that morality is instinctive, a social adaptation to keep us cooperating and not excluded from our place by the campfire; that we are merely organisms in a perennial competition for resources. All that PLUS neurotypicals *are* wired for connection. And we dwindle when we don't get it (hence all the weeping socios cause). You know, I really didn't know this last point.
I crave the FNP 'cause his games and his sex hit some dopamine high notes. Not to mention his beauty and intelligence. His intelligence and thrill seeking are - surprise, surprise - reminiscent of my father's.
Yet not even the FNP could keep pace with my narcissistic father (the food chain, the food chain, oh that is a story!) No one can. And I wonder if the rhythms my father set as the cadence of my life can ever be changed.
All this stuff about love - I learnt many things from the FNP and the best thing I learned was self-sufficiency. By this I mean integration, living in accordance with your own nature. An adult should be able to look after their own emotional needs and for a neurotypical, this involves thriving in community. Socios must live in community too and it is a tension for them.
We all have our struggles. I take my lessons from running head on into life and to be frank, it's the best way to change. Emotional and novel experiences provide fertile ground for remodelling the brain.
I keep a vision of being integrated, adventurous and thriving... but those games, baby, are better than sex (and that's saying something!) Dear me, perhaps I still have some lessons to learn the hard way (counts down to next meeting in T - 10d while we are both obliged by the court to refrain from contacting the other)
Yeah, so that's my struggle. I do want a companion. And it's better to be honest about that lest the FNP play his pipe again to that tune.