No Fix to Find

I’ve realized that, as of late, I do not chase ever-increasingly stimulating activities.  Maybe it is part of the maturation process or maybe it is simply a realization that there is truly nothing that will ever satisfy.  I am resigned to eternal boredom and emptiness.  There is no fix that will ever fulfill my want for something in this life; they all merely run the risk of cracking my mask or risking my health.

I don’t know what emotion to attach with such a realization.  It isn’t quite depression or anger, but those seem to come closest.  Neurotypicals look forward to any number of things: holidays, gatherings with friends, drinks at the bar after work, and so on.  I suspect that they do this because these activities are not just enjoyable, but memorable.  They are satisfied where the sociopath cannot.  I seek stimulation because nothing ever registers as, not only important but, worthy of this life.  

Many adrenaline junkies seek a rush via dangerous activities in order to feel, and revisit, a physical rush.  I don’t require such a rush, per se, but rather any feeling at all.  Life is so rote, so tired, that nothing registers as remarkable.  This is the most damning realization of all: that I will never be able to do anything but long for something that I will never have.  My neurophysiology prevents it.

I doubt that I’ll ever understand why there is nothing to satisfy me.  I am good at many things and such allows my narcissism to shine through.  Giving presentations on various subjects and solving difficult problems has resulted, many times, in the respect and adoration of others.  Such is only satisfying for minutes, however.  Within such a short period of time, the pride and satisfaction is gone and I am reduced to wondering if anything will result in a longer, and positive, feeling.  I suspect the answer is that there is not.

Some would say that sociopaths are like junkies, seeking just one fix to revisit the previously visited highs of life.  My experience is that this simply is not true.  The junkie is trying to go back to a place that once was mind-blowing and satisfying; the sociopath is trying to find any state that is anything but eternal boredom and dissatisfaction.  Many of us keep escalating our activities hoping that we will find anything worth writing home about.  I’ve abandoned such a venture; I realize that there most likely does not exist such a panacea.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *