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This is my first time posting on this sight. It also my first time sharing these thoughts.
I don't know how to start this really. So I'll be blunt about it. I can't feel love, joy or empathy. I could when I was younger. I was a very sensitive child and I hated seeing others in pain. I wanted nothing more than to take their pain because I could bare it. At least I thought I could. It was easier to see someone else's pain and know how to process and deal with it. I could see what to do. I could see the outcome and try my best to lead the one that is hurting. What I couldn't do is handle my own pain. Maybe hurt too much so I seeked out others, easing their burden didn't ease my own; no, it simply distracted me from my own pain. In the end I broke. I didn't want to feel any more. I believe I was empath that broke.
There is a common miss belief about sociopaths. So many people think we are born this way, just like a psychopath. The truth is we are made this way. I became an emotional and mental punching bag for others. I didn't have any friends growing up. The ones I thought were my friends quickly turned on me like venomous vipers waiting to devour their prey. I didn't have a father or mother I felt love from. I was just simply the black sheep of the family. Don't get me wrong, my father wasn't sociopath or anything. I just didn't have the right body parts. He did experiment on me when I was really young, he lost interest in me rather quickly. Rejected by a pedophile should be a good thing, right? Not when your a stupid kid that doesn't know any better. All I saw was my siblings getting more attention and affection from Dad. Nothing I could do was ever good enough.
There is five us. Three girls and two boys. He never touched the youngest because they were mother's favorite. She knew about his urges, he even confessed to it. He claimed to have prayed to God and repented. He never stopped though. Even to this day, our mother doesn't deny it, she never says anything when I bring it up. Sorry, I got off track. The reason we were all ignorant was we were home schooled. We couldn't really talk to anyone so this was just normal. Father was a youth pastor and had a habit of moving every 6-9 months. He claimed there was problems in the church and he would leave. Now I have my suspicions they were accusations and he fled before charges were brought up.
That was my childhood. An echo that haunts my very existence. One that will never silence until my last breath is drawn.
One thing you need to know about me is I have to keep moving forward in life. I have to be working towards something all the time or I get depressed and suicidal thoughts creep into my mind. My spouse thinks I have O.C.D. and tells me to calm down when I try to make things perfect. What she doesn't know is this distracts me from being depressed. Being order to choose makes me feel like I have a purpose or value for a little while. Please don't go freaking out with this bit of information about suicidal thoughts. It is something I have lived with for a very long time and I have found ways to cope with it.
I believe around the age of 6 or 8 I knew I wanted to die. Not because I was emo or anything. I wanted nothing more than to just go home. The question becomes, where is home of you don't feel attached to anyone or any place? From the age of 2.5 until the age of 5, I was in 36 different foster homes. Between these ages are crucial developmental stages for attachment, let's just say I pulled the short straw. All I knew was I didn't belong here, amongst those I saw as a foreign species. One I felt like I didn't belong too. The only other place there was to go was where we came from. Eventually I added that up with dying and started to attempt suicide.
Needless to say my attempts were not successful. I tried suffocating myself, drowning, cutting into a vein, looking for a place to fall to my death, I even swallowed three different types poisons. Still here, so I ultimately accepted my fate as being stuck here in a sadistic, fleshy prison; forver tormented by those I envy.
To cope, I started setting goals for myself. I got married, I served in the military, I a have bought and sold my own house, I have a new born son and I am about to graduate school with a bachelors degree in psychology. Life is good and I have lots to be thankful for. There are many less fortunate people and I should be basking in what I have. The problem is I don't feel any attachments to any of it. I can't feel my spouses love towards me. I can't feel love towards them. I was holding my son today and I realized he has become just another routine for me. He exists and I can't feel any affection towards him. I feel like I need to mention this, one thing I can still feel is caring. Caring is often misinterpreted as empathy. I care about my spouse and son, I will just never be able to feel any love towards them.
Having a child was the biggest goal I set for myself. I swore I would be a better parent than what I had growing up. Now that I have a son I realize how cold and empty life will be. When my son was born and I heard that first cry, I wanted to feel something so badly. I wanted to feel human again. Maybe, just maybe the muricle of life would change that part of me. Logically this makes no sense, I just wanted to believe so badly that I ignored all logic. I felt something! Psychology and logic be damned! Looking back, I realize I fooled myself into believing I did. I just didn't want to feel like a monster in that moment. Coming to terms with never feeling happiness or joy again is a hard pill to swallow.
Noq, I can only be a better parent to my son than how my parents were. I'll put on the fake, warm smile with his friends. I will mimic normal social behavior like I always do around other parents. I'll make sure he feels loved and cared for. With each passing day a little more of me will break, watching what everyone else has. What is forever out of my reach. What am I but ghost walking amongst the living.
I don't expect sympathy from anyone reading this post. I wouldn't be able to feel it. The reason I decided to post this is because of depression and writing is the only way for me express my own darkness.
Thank you for reading. I didn't expect this to be such a long post.
Best wishes
Jera
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My daughter was born a sociopath. When she was only 2 or 3 years old she was sticking pins into our cat. Did not hear or know about her destroying any property. After her being a very bitchy teenager her personality is definitely that of a sociopath.
ReplyI get you, I'm eternally numb. I wasn't always like this. I'm not a sociopath but I do feel for sociopaths and I don't mean the typical pity or fear. I mean I understand you. I'm not some therapist or shit. I understand. It's okay. To be honest with you, I would happily date a sociopath who was honest about being one. I get you completely.
ReplyI get you. I faded away from the cocktail of legal drugs. It was much more than a label. And I'm numb too. I'm replicating emotions too. I'm apathetic just like you. At least you can articulate it. Beautifully. If I knew you & you told me you were like this, I would always stay by your side even though I'm incapable of love & empathy & sorrow. Because I too am aware of this, it is all I'm aware of. You're beautiful to me even though I don't know you. Without toxins like pills which harm your brain. A clear sign that a problem is there but it stops the brain from working to recognise & solve the problem or ponder upon feelings which essentially come from our brain. Thus damaging it. You have been dehumanised.
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