A wish for psychopathy?
At certain times in my past I wished like hell that I could have been born a psychopath.
Being an intelligent lesbian with a couple of serious mental illnesses in a time and place when none of the above are considered acceptable things for a woman to be puts a chick under quite a bit of emotional pain. I’ve been on the receiving end of various degrees of hate ranging from unintelligent clichéd insults to one instance of outright physical violence. I may have a firm handle on who I am and what I’m doing, but I’m also insecure and sensitive, which make it hard for me to take too much shite from people.
Seems like optimal conditions for a psychopath to live under, huh? A total lack of emotional response in a life diffuse with ridicule and animosity would seem like a blessing, wouldn’t it?
Then I learned that psychopaths are also emotionally unaffected by story and song. Beautiful music, a touching movie, a superb book…nothing. I may hate the pain the world, various loved ones, my fucked up brain chemicals, and my own sense of self-criticism put me under, but I wouldn’t trade the feeling I get listening to Porcelina of the Vast Oceans for anything. And though I cry every single damn time I watch The Return of the King, I would rather have that than feel absolutely nothing at such a poignant story.
I guess the pain in life is part of what makes it beautiful.
Being an intelligent lesbian with a couple of serious mental illnesses in a time and place when none of the above are considered acceptable things for a woman to be puts a chick under quite a bit of emotional pain. I’ve been on the receiving end of various degrees of hate ranging from unintelligent clichéd insults to one instance of outright physical violence. I may have a firm handle on who I am and what I’m doing, but I’m also insecure and sensitive, which make it hard for me to take too much shite from people.
Seems like optimal conditions for a psychopath to live under, huh? A total lack of emotional response in a life diffuse with ridicule and animosity would seem like a blessing, wouldn’t it?
Then I learned that psychopaths are also emotionally unaffected by story and song. Beautiful music, a touching movie, a superb book…nothing. I may hate the pain the world, various loved ones, my fucked up brain chemicals, and my own sense of self-criticism put me under, but I wouldn’t trade the feeling I get listening to Porcelina of the Vast Oceans for anything. And though I cry every single damn time I watch The Return of the King, I would rather have that than feel absolutely nothing at such a poignant story.
I guess the pain in life is part of what makes it beautiful.