As predicted, I am bored of this. Expect no more posts from me. It was fun while I was still interested.

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@sociopath-thoughts
As predicted, I am bored of this. Expect no more posts from me. It was fun while I was still interested.
✝ Welcome to the Underworld ✝
My interactions with others are purely purpose driven. Or at least that I what I have observed with every human interaction to this point. I treat others as potted plants, wishing that they can thrive with the minimum of effort on my part and tending to them only when it pleases me. I never felt attachment to another and I’ve written that the price to pay of psychopathy is the complete inability to form interpersonal bonds with the same intensity that neurotypicals can. As I prepare to move thousands of miles to a new playground, I wonder if it is truly impossible to form those bonds or whether the psychopath may merely find it less automatic.
It may seem strange to the neurotypical, but I fear making such a bond. I fear it because I do not want the pain of seeing a trusted and cherished friend die or vanish. I have never felt such a feeling and it both terrifies me and disgusts me to think of myself rendered feeble by such useless emotions. This terror is reality as the gravity of moving and leaving one such acquaintance behind invokes these emotions that I could never fathom.
I told my family that I was moving far away. Upon hearing the news, my mother burst into a sorrowful wailing that I simply could not understand. Why would anyone shed tears over another? How could anyone mean that much? When I told a non-romantic acquaintance that I respect highly, it finally hit that this acquaintance would be gone from my life as well. The tears that I shed upon this realization were alien and confusing. For one that has always treated others with indifference except when those others have use, the thought of actually missing someone did not make sense.
I wondered whether such feelings invalidated the diagnosis of psychopathy. I wondered if I had reached a level of emotional growth from years of deep introspection and efforts toward my mental health. There were so many questions and there will be so many more. As far as I can tell, this person is the only one that I will truly miss. I will not miss my family nor any other acquaintances. I am overjoyed at the idea of becoming a fresh nothing-face in a new land. Yet, I can’t shake the notion that something very dear to me will be missing from my new life. I can’t shake the notion that I have something dear to begin with. It does not make sense.
Is it gratitude for what they have done for me? I don’t think so; I am not a gracious person. Is it a valuation of their existence? That doesn’t seem quite right either. What about a selfish feeling that someone who has had great influence in my life will be essentially dead to me? A few weeks ago, I would have written that such had to be the case. Now I’m not so certain. I may have actually developed a bond that means something and now it will be gone.
My goal in the coming weeks – before I move – is to understand what these tears mean. Am I glimpsing a part of humanity that I assumed was inaccessible to me? And, if I am, what exactly does that mean? Am I not invincible to the pain that neurotypicals feel? Am I, on the tiniest of levels, the same as my mother with her tears? I don’t quite understand and all that I can do is to keep searching.
I think that’s infected. I don’t know. Maybe you should get that checked out. Oh, I’m sorry, I gave you leg AIDS.
American Crow, John Audubon, 1833
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Oppe på Flya by Theodor Kittelsen