Speaking Falsely

The key to being a successful liar is to sprinkle just enough truth to where even the most sour lie goes down like sugar.  That said, I don’t always follow my own advice.  I often have several arcs in play at any given moment with people that are close to each other.  If they were so keen as to compare notes, I’d be in a world of hurt.  Often, these arcs are spun simply for the sake of lying, not out of convenience or any other tangible benefit to me.  I’ve known of many others that are or claim to be psychopathic and the narrative seems to hold.  Our tongues get us into trouble because we simply are prone to speak falsely.

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Destroy the Mimic

The term ‘psychopathy’ attracts far more than the antisocial.  So many wish to gravitate toward this label for reasons that I will never fully understand.  Those with low levels of empathy (affective or cognitive) seem to want to use the label to explain their being, regardless over whether it makes sense.  Sometimes, the undiagnosed and mentally ill stumble across the term as a means for substituting something “hip” and “cool” for the treatment that they so very badly need.  It’s all rather irritating.  Wolves are wolves.  If you are not a wolf, then you are not a wolf.  It’s that simple, yet people want to be seen as something they are not.  Ultimately, it is the responsibility of those with the condition to speak up, even if anonymously, to correct such dangerous misrepresentations and mischaracterizations of the disorder.

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…And Her Tongue Was Cut Out and Her Hands Amputated

This post has absolutely nothing to do with ASPD or psychopathy.  I get compliments all the time for my use of the English language.  Some like my metaphor, some adore all of the alliteration or assonance, others feel that I just have a way of conveying my thoughts in manner that is both succinct and interesting.  I can’t disagree with any of this.  When it comes to expressing my own thoughts and opinions, I am usually very articulate.  However, when I am confronted with the same from a mind that is not my own, I find that I struggle mightily.  I can speak to others, but when I am faced with interpreting the “music” that flows from another’s mouth, I find myself mute and unable to communicate.  I find myself deaf and unable to listen.  I don’t know how to interpret and I don’t know how to continue the dance.  I suppose these problems lie at the heart of my narcissism and Borderline traits, but I cannot say for certain.

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…And the Mountains Moved and the Spine Contorted

I am, in many ways, a simple person.  I am highly egocentric and I do not tolerate discomfort.  This has led to the burning of many bridges in which I dart into the night, never to be seen again.  I am slowly learning that sometimes bridges can be rebuilt, though.  I may not be apt to avoiding my arsonist ways any time soon, but I can rebuild what I destroy.  I can also rebuild what simply had to collapse under its own weight.

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