I realize that I am far from the prototypical psychopath; for that I am grateful. I have my freedom and my status in society by remaining undetected and by slinking through the shadows. I am not prototypical in large part because I choose restraint – a topic that I have written about innumerable times at this point. However, the act of restraint does not quiet the antisocial mind. It grows hungrier and thirstier, wishing that it could validate its own existence by the pints of blood that its body could collect. And, it grows more aware of its presence in a world that claims to be prosocial. The psyche realizes that it is utterly alone by necessity and turns to self-loathing. Why would anyone choose to be blessed with a gift that can never be used? Why have a mouth if one cannot feed?
I do not wish to imply that this psychic dilemma is one shared by many other psychopaths – but it is one that is common with other forms of mental illness. The Borderline often wishes she was less tumultuous with her relationships – knowing that it is unlikely that such will ever come to fruition. The Bipolar wish that they could reach stability so that their jobs were not on the line with each downturn or surge. Those who are not neurotypical – used here to mean ‘functionally healthy in mind’ rather than non-psychopathic – clamour for the ability to blend in with the crowd and to be known for their individuality rather than their illnesses. The realization that this is not the case – and never will be – leads to self-loathing.