My Obsession.

 “I am haunted by you. From my suffering self I would tear out my soul to walk as an empty vessel through life if it would end your possession of me…”" - Jerry Kirk

Obsession is defined as the domination of one's thoughts or feelings by a persistent idea, image or desire. It is a derivative of the Latin word ‘obsidere’ meaning to besiege, in reference to the belief that such passionate and pervasive thoughts were akin to being besieged by powerful spirits taking control of your mind. Manipulating you, possessing you, seducing you with soft whispers and invisible caresses. I for one, have no idea how to make them stop.

Recently I read a dissertation, which brought forth the thesis that the psychology of violent psychopaths was not dissimilar to that of addicts. The author argued that the mode through which psychopaths expressed addictive behavior was through their progressing attachment and participation in fantasy from childhood onward. Originally a vessel to escape reality, fantasy moves on to become an integral part of the psychopath’s ‘identity’. He then goes on to explain how the intensity and depravity of said fantasies creates a euphoria that comes to fill the void in a sociopathic child’s emotional development.

In this way violent fantasies begin working in the brain much like drugs do in an addict. When you become hooked on a drug like Heroin, the drug literally begins taking over certain processes in your brain. In psychology we loosely call these processes apart of your ‘reward system’. The body’s reward system is made up of various chemicals including dopamine and serotonin. When your body becomes too accustomed to a drug manipulating your brain’s production of these chemicals, your body adjusts to that by ceasing to produce them naturally. This is what makes it almost impossible for veteran drug users to stop. Their brain chemistry is now literally altered to make these drugs biologically necessary. They’ll do anything to avoid the misery, apathy and lack of happiness that comes with quitting.

For the young psychopath, half of this cycle is missing. A heroin addict’s brain could take years to normalize enough to feel happiness without extreme stimulus, making it ridiculously hard for him/her to quit. For the psychopath, that reward system was broken from the beginning. What that means is constant fantasizing and thrill-seeking behavior becomes akin to an alcoholic needing a drink. We need it to function normally like others can naturally. We can’t stop, it’s the only thing keeping us alive.

But at this point in my life, I think it’s killing me. I am so deep in my own ocean of depravity I can’t even recall which way is up. I’m drowning with air in my lungs. I’m dead but my heart’s still beating.

It’s impossible to focus. The thoughts have always plagued me, possessed me and influenced my actions. But at one time they were analogous to a friend, a companion. Sure, they played games with me. Cruelly pushed me into risky situations; shoved me into positions a clever kid should avoid. But my thoughts only led me to hedonistic delights. Only persuaded me out of my decorum and sharp tact in order to smother my senses in euphoria. To remind me I wasn’t just taking breaths for show.

But now I’m too far in; too deep in a quicksand I’m not sure I want to escape from. Like I’m climbing a mountain I’m never going to reach the peak of. I feel as if I am literally miles under the ocean with no light to guide my way to survival. There is this bursting pressure behind my eyes, a prickling of a thousand needles under my skin, compelling me to satisfy this need, this fucking uncontrollable desire, and it seems nothing will satisfy it anymore.

Giving in is only a temporary respite. A shallow breath before being plunged back into acrid waters. There is an ultimate pinnacle of pleasure that will come with the perfection of my fantasy, with the flawlessness of my ritual and the re-creation of this ideal. I’m sure of it. This is my obsession. These are the words whispered into blushing ears. These are the beliefs massaged into a pained chest. I have nothing else. My obsession is the single object of color in a world of black and white.

I’m not sure if this feeling of perpetual dissatisfaction, even when enacting long-desired fantasies is a result of one factor or another. I have a suspicion that there is a single individual to blame. My obsession has never encompassed an object or person, but rather a situation or idea. Now it does. Now my perfect fantasy, my addiction, involves a single object I can’t get my hands on. Part of me would do anything to get it. The other part is more prudent; wise. Either way, nothing but death will stop me from eventually assuaging my besieged mind. I’ll get what I want, rest-assured, but how am I supposed to breathe until then?

Serial Murder I

Well here you have it ladies and gentlemen, the topic you've all been waiting for. Because really, when your layman thinks of Psychopaths, you know he's thinking Ted Bundy, Adolf Hitler, The Night Stalker, Barack Obama... the well known members of our ranks. And it's disappointing for the everyman to find that, the majority of us stay much more under the radar than that.

Which begs the question, How is violence and Psychopathy linked? It's an interesting question, and one where the answer is more ambiguous than perhaps we'd wish. As I mentioned in my last post, there is a wide spectrum of psychopathic personalities. The most studied is the low IQ, Criminal Psychopath, and that's where Antisocial Personality Disorder falls on the chart, in the middle is your everyday sociopath who wields varying but balanced combinations of criminal tendencies and superior intellect, which usually makes him perfect for the wonderfully cutthroat world of business and other such endeavors. Finally, on the far end of the spectrum, opposite ASPD, is the Psychopath, highly intelligent, silently narcissistic, clever and self-aware. The high functioning Psychopath is fully capable of equally 'heinous' crimes as the ASPD'er, but they are more known for premeditated, tricky crimes that if found out, generally fill the media with fascinating fodder for weeks, if not decades.

The thing people don't realize however, is that as much as Neurotypicals differ, so do we. To say all Psychopaths are violent murderers would be foolish, but to say none were would of course be even more so. It's almost like a rockstar who people picture being this amazing freak all the time, until they one day meet them and find they're just as boring and mundane as everyone else, though of course some of them truly do live the lifestyle. Hence their very short, very interesting lives.

Motiveless murder is fascinating on its own. Killing someone in rage is understandable even to the emotional. But purely for some unknown pleasure, that's what truly terrifies people. To think that no matter how nice and good and pleasant they are to people, their life can still end in a horrifyingly violent and bloody way. But what is the difference between a psychopath prone to serial murder/sexual assault, and psychopaths who-aren't? My only hypothesis is Sadism, pure and simple.

When you lead a largely unemotional existence, anything that can get your heart pumping is worth its weight in gold. For some of us, the feel of blood and the scent of fear does that. So simple. Empaths can't comprehend that. Everything must have extremely elaborate explanations. Serial killers must have horrible childhoods where they themselves were constantly raped and beaten and THEIR parents raped and beat them because they themselves were raped and beaten by THEIR parents who raped and beat them because....so on. The problem with that little psychological paradox, is obviously at some point, SOMEONE started raping and beating for no other reason than they enjoyed it. I don't know why that's so hard to believe. Perhaps a second part is in order..

"I wish I could stop but I could not. I had no other thrill or happiness. "

-Dennis Nilsen

An Interlude Into My Life

Sometimes I wonder at what is considered important to the masses. Of all the traits that make people differ from each other, few even register in my mind. So many frivolous things dwelt upon; gender, race, religion. I could care less.

I don't care about what a person projects to the world, I want to see their insides. I want to see what makes their heart race, what floods ice through their veins, what makes them quake in fear and jump for joy. Like a surgeon of the mind I want to dissect and probe them like no one has done before, and I want to do it quickly, flawlessly and subtly. That's all I really want to do.

It sounds strange, a bit far-fetched- and it is. To understand the motivation you'd have to experience life completely inside your mind for awhile. Imagine being an actor in a scene that never ends. What would you do to pass the time? What recreation could you have but to peer behind the eyes of your fellow actors?

Everyone has their little quirks. Some people collect buttons or figurines or pennies and the like. I collect observations. I look at a person and paint a picture over time. The juxtaposition of who a person is versus who they pretend to be can be grand or miniscule, but still interesting just the same.

Through the eyes of someone else like me I must be fascinating indeed. So contradictory, paradoxical. I have no identity and therefore just like water I am shapeless, moulded to fit my surroundings. I hate to be dramatic but it's true.

My daily interactions are a curious mixture of ad-libbing and careful fore-planning. I have periodic 'meetings' with myself where I analyze the direction of my current personality(s) and decide if changes should be made. From adolescence to now, countless drastic alterations have been made, as well as many many smaller changes.

I suppose I began doing this when I was fairly young. It was a result of the realization that human beings were linear functions. I noticed that while others appeared to be changing, one might say 'maturing', I was no different than I had been for years. It was a puzzling discovery.

There is no guidance for people like me. No relatable 'adult' figure that teaches you how to pretend to be human. That's all up to you, and it can be a difficult transition to make.

Late elementary school is when I noticed the shift normal humans start to make. They become less authentic and more main stream. Being accepted by the masses becomes more important-- not that their weren't little social groups before, but at this point it enters a whole new level. Now all the sudden it's important to be 'cool' and 'fit in' and anyone who doesn't is punished brutally through physical and psychological harassment.

This was also a huge transition for me. I had to make several decisions consciously that Normals make subconsciously. What path should I take now? What kind of 'group' would it be to my advantage to cling to? I wasn't sure.

So I dabbled. In a short period of time I tested out everything from being a 'prep' to a 'loner' and found that while I could pull anything off, it seemed more logical to choose the kind of people closest to my purest form. The less acting I'd have to deal with, the better.

Junior High was also when I experienced the most difficulty with my impulsiveness. I had always been violent, but in my formative years I lived surrounded by people like me. Guiltless, aggressive predators who could care less if I spent my free time kicking puppies or getting into fights-if anything it was encouraged. Now all the sudden I'm thrust into a structured environment with normal people who control themselves and color inside the lines and now I had to figure out a way to emulate that. I was largely unsuccessful, for a time.

And then I started 'growing' thought wise. I had always been extremely introspective but around this time is when I started utilizing that aspect of myself in a more intelligent way. I began to internalize my violent tendencies and create a stronger facade less prone to cracks.

I still struggle with my impulses but then again, I'm still young. Every year I gain more control, more awareness and insightfulness.

I know I usually write in a more upbeat, sarcastic tone but today I thought I'd share a bit more. This blog to me is like a parody of my life and how the world views sociopathy. Sharing a more grandiose, narcissistic side of myself is infinitely entertaining and that's ultimately the only thing I find important. Life is a dull blade, sharpen it anyway you can.