What being a Sociopath is for me. Update I

[Original Post.] (https://www.reddit.com/r/sociopath/comments/3cdab4/what_being_a_sociopath_is_for_me/)

Around a dozen upvotes and 66 comments (even when half might be mine) are good enough for me to consider as "a response", and I can't be blamed for enjoying that attention, however feeble.

I have no idea what my point will be now, or if there even will be any, but in any case, I guess I'm trying to explain myself, and just let it go through gut feeling. Should this be helpful to anyone, or why the fuck I am writing like a bad translated Russian author, fate shall decide, and God knows that the only relation between the two are that I don't care at all about their respective answers.

So, on with it: I am proud of being a Sociopath. Yeah, that's a biggie. I'm totally proud. And yes, I do think I'm better than everyone else. Like, in the very second I make eye contact with someone, I internally think "There goes a lesser being" (and luckily and healthily for me, life has proven me wrong a couple of times, and I'm ready to admit it).

In truth: having 2 degrees and a phD, and speaking 4 languages kinda makes me feel good about myself in the smarts department.

Oh and also I'm 29 and I haven't worked a day in my life, in spite of being in a South American country. That's how bad I've manipulated my family (of this one I'm not so proud, but I'm working on it). If I get away with my plan, I'll be totally self sufficient soon, and on the path of building a very cool family.

In between my 13 and now, I've been an exchange student for a year in Germany, a runaway teen, a Sex Addict, a Gay rights activist, a law advisor for gay rights movements (we were all into our early 20's and nobody had a cent, so it doesn't really count as working, like it's not in my CV), director of a couple of short films, failed fiction writer, successful screenwriter, and I'm currently studying Editing in filmschool, unemployed, and still enjoying many high class privileges.

So that's how bad of a sociopath I am. I have absolutely no quarrels with lying, and I know how to lie about stuff in a way that everybody belives them and nobody doubts them for a second, but that also don't really turn against myself. There's a halo around me that I am able to sustain, and that has brought me many benefits in life.

I have delusions of grandeur, and I've always had them. And sometimes I may have some hallucinations. Sometimes it gets really bad. I acknowledge that I've hurt people and that it kinda maybe bugs me, but I can't say that I feel guilty or regret, nor that I doubted for a second at the time I did them, and I fully knew what I was doing.

I practiced a lot on the internet. Imagine a gay 12yo kid, in 1998, going into mirc, something people knew nothing of, and hooking up with guys twice his age, getting people to call them up (Lucky me, I have a deep voice, and I've always had it). I lied my teeth out and saw how much people belived me. I had a record of how long I had lasted with this lie and how long with that lie, and what I had done wrong, and how could I kept it going next time.

Yeah, I did that. I also downloaded tons of pornography, that I could keep hidden through changing folders from regedit. Erasing my tracks has always been one of my best talents.

My dad wanted me not to be gay, so he forced me to go to Rugby practice. A year later, I'd had some kind of sex with half the team.

So, I'm a piece of shit. I feel like a piece of shit. I don't feel guilt but I'm often depressed and I hate it, because depression for a sociopath can get really violent. And it's hard to be violent with yourself if you don't want anybody to know you are. So it's all stress and anxiety, trying to juggle a thousand things at the same time and wondering if you'll be able to get away with it, for how long, are they gonna find out, how are they going to find out. You have a scheme, a path, a method, you've trained yourself to move in a world you don't know, designed by people who are at the same time a lot like you and a lot different.

And then something cracks you.

In my case, my Grandmother. I was 19. I was already back from Germany, I was in college already (Imagine a province town of 140.000, I bet they are the same at least in USA). Came back to my town for a birthday or something, and somehow ended up visiting my grandmother.

I had a very long conversation, and It's been almost ten years of this. Yet, I have it written down (Oh, I have this massive mania of keeping records of everything I can this is a translation of a text I have that has July 2005 as a date -A serious mania, I admit-) so this is a translation of a conversation I had with my grandmother, so you can consider it true and verbatim.

"I also pissed the bed until I was 8."

"I never liked talking about that."

"What's the worse you've done?"

"What?"

"I don't mean regret, I don't mean what haunts you. I mean, try to remember, whatever you do remember as bad, and just think, of every bad thing you've done, what's the worse?"

Yupp... My granmother is a sociopath. I have even told her about this subreddit (sadly, she doesn't speak english).

So, Well, truth be told, I hadn't even thought about it until that moment. My grandmother had just been an ATM for me. But it's true that she had been kinda closer to me than to my other cousins, or brothers, even if slightly. Translating this, I am amazed how well I remember that conversation. It's like I'm there.

"Okay, I'll start. Embe**lement. Now you go."

"I made a kid's ass bleed."

She opens her eyes wide, and then she smiles (in my text, I described the smile as "pleased with herself"...)

"I knew it."

"That I was gay?"

"Nope, of that I didn't have the slightest idea. How did you make him bleed, you cut him?"

"I tried to fuck him, but I'm too big."

She chuckles, and says "Con paciencia y con saliva, un elefante se cogió a una hormiga" (With patience and saliva, an elefant fucked an ant).

And then she adds

"So, rape. Interesting."

That's it, the rest, I didn't write down. But I remember talking a lot with her, for hours. And I also remember my mum interrupting two cups of wine, and sighing in my direction. But maybe that was in another one of our talks.

The most important one, is when I did something. I did something that I'm totally not about to write, neither here nor anywhere. And next time I saw her, I told her. I thought she'd have a laugh. This conversation, I'll admit, is 100% paraphrased and I'm rebuilding it from scratch and memory.

"That's not right." She said.

"Who cares?"

"People do. These people. What if your parents know about it?"

"He will be too embarrased. He'll never say anyone that happened."

"Look, Marto, you have to choose. You can do whatever you want. But even if you don't care, try as much as you can to keep people who help you happy. We're not alone, and we are social by nature. Not you and me, but we should be, or at least fake it. How you do it, is very simple. Admiration. Whoever seems to be admired by people, is somehow a rolemodel. Learn from every rolemodel whatever you can, and try to do it, while being as calmed and chilled as possible. Look towards the conepts that sorround and circle ideas that tradition has upheld. Sometimes it's not the easiest path, and It'll take a lot of you, a toll on you. But it's a price everybody pays, and if you care about how you are remembered by your kids and grandsons, and that you should, because I do, then just act accordingly. What you did is a step in the exactly farthest possible opposite direction."

And after that single talk with my grandmother, that's maybe the single time ever I felt something that can be undoubtedly described as "guilt".

And she didn't say it exactly like that, but over the years, the words and ideas she's gone around while discussing the "be a good person" issue, were these. These good things I now upheld, and these I try to live by. It's a rational, selfish choice. I do it because I want to do it, and because It's been useful to me, the leverage of "good person". And It's just a social appearance, because in many, many things I still am the same piece of shit I've always been.

And yet I have enough pride in myself to say that maybe I'm happy.

Okay, I'm done again. See if I keep it up? But I'm kinda done.