A schizoid personality

I’d like to simply share a theory that is both a scientific process and a leap of faith:

If God [a] is omnipresent (he can be in any and different places at the same time).

And if God [a] is omnipotent / Omniscient (he can do everything and anything conceivable or not by humankind).

Then obviously if you follow a rigorous scientific process, then it is logical to conclude that [a] can create a universe anywhere it pleases where it itself will not exist…

And if you have faith, well you have to believe that God can create a universe where he does not exist, after all he works in mysterious ways, and it could be an ultimate “test to find out whether you love him with all your heart and with all your soul” - Deuteronomy 13:1-3

Jeez, I finally filled the gap between atheists and theists: We can now all agree that somewhere, God does not exist… See? That wasn’t so hard now was it?

Some ref: http://scriptures.lds.org/bd/g/43

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 I have been asked if schizoids were conscience they were hurting people, not just buy not giving enough attention, but more especially while leaving their close ones…I can’t answer for them, but I can tell you this about me: Yes I am conscious I “hurt” people’s feelings (I would not hurt a fly), and that I will hurt my wife and daughter if leaving them.

As going as far as to living your family, well, I believe once gone, it is hard to come back. See most people will get tired of the loneliness; figure what they are missing after a few days away (and after having partied all their soul. Basically they get it out of their system then realize they just can’t live alone). But not me… The sad truth is the longer apart, the longer alone, and the best can I appreciate being distant from my family.

Being alone is extremely liberating, and when it happens, I forget my family almost instantly… I enter my bubble, I am all alone with my schedule and activities, most of the time I don’t hear the phone anymore and easily enter into a timeless state where a day can go by without me noticing it: that’s how deep I can introvert and be in my thoughts with no one around.

But conscience there is, yes. When comes the time to go back to the real world (eating, shopping, etc…) It’s like waves of conscience, coming and going. Personally, I can even feel guilt (like putting 4000 miles between me and my mom who lives alone), but I quickly rationalize it, dismiss it, put it under wrap until the next wave…

Of course at some culminant points, the adding of it all could make some waves pretty hurtful. Then extreme melancholy (which I cannot express, even if all alone by myself), sadness, guilt… it all turns into an hurtful ball in my chest, then comes the emptiness, and at that point the line is very very thin and slippery to fall into clinical depression…

So the choice is dealing with conscience of hurting people or dealing with feelings to not hurt pepople, and I am way more equipped to deal with conscience issues than with feelings and proximity. I can dissect my conscience, play with it, turn it around, understand it, and justify it, so that with enough work it will not wake any dormant feelings on the next wave… So yes, there is clear conscience on my part, and I do understand that I “hurt” others in the process of being distant, or worst; leaving. Yet I cannot care much (understanding and caring are two different things) because I know the others don’t have any conscience of what I go thru…

That is my plague: I know I am “the villain” (by common standards), but I cannot change it (by my standards), cannot explain it especially to those I hurt (because they of course are emotional about it, and I just can’t go there), and very few people can understand it… (It will be like an atheist trying to convince a theist to lose faith or a theist trying to convince an atheist to have faith… pointless…)

I have been alone (usually 1 or 2 weeks while my wife and daughter go on vacations earlier than me), and I have felt the urge to stay that way, terribly!

But I am pretty balanced, and it’s like a switch I flip: “Alone/Family”. So when the time is up, I flip the switch, get in the plane and join my family (I usually need the trip to readjust properly).

It’s the “getting the switch to work” part that is tricky, and I understand perfectly why it will not work for others. There is a degree of knowing oneself implied, and I think I was lucky, from my education, to be able to look at and criticized myself constructively at a young age. Aside from that, probably only therapy could bring that degree of understanding and control…

I do walk a very fine line while putting myself into the position of being alone, or more exactly I put my family on a very fine line, every time there is a chance the switch won’t flip back… Yet, I truly believe I need those moments too, it’s part of my neutral self and perpetual paradoxical personality: I need to flirt with it, just enough to know I am right not to fall completely…

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Well, a week in the big apple, and I must say I was delightly surprised! I could live there! Well, there are a bit too much people still, but I mean, the atmosphere, the architecture, the culture… It’s a lot like Paris with taller buildings…Lots of cafés, in which you are served and not plundered with questions every five minutes (are you ok? Everything fine?, need more this, more that?… - yes you will get your tip, can I eat peacefully now? -). Even the portions of food are smaller than everywhere else in North America, at last a city that seems to understand that quality does not necessarily means quantity…

Peoples look less like sheep too. For example, they will cross a street even with a red pedestrian if no cars are at the horizon (man here in Toronto, they will stay 5 minutes waiting for the green to cross an empty street, I swear the only ones crossing will not be Canadians…)

One awkward thing though; they seem married with their cel phone… in the streets, in the subway, in the park, jogging! Driving, eating!… I mean it’s like they cannot live thirty seconds without talking or being talked to by someone… New Yorkers also seems to know only BLACK, definitively some conformism here, you have to be trendy, and right now, let me tell you BLACK is the trend, I have seen flood of crowds all wearing black, the only tiny bit of color was the Japan tourists melt in the middle…

No but seriously, there is something in the streets of NY, a “je ne sais quoi” that makes it stands from the rest of the country. I really felt some things I had only felt in Paris before. Hard to describe, but I felt home more surely in NY than in downtown Toronto, even if time square is a little bit too much for my schizoid self

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I am in New-York for the week, for pleasure. So my curiosity brings me face to Liberty Island, and of course, ticket in hand I go for the ferry.

Before boarding goes the whole security measures thing that are now everywhere in NY it seems. I understand how two planes crashing in two of your biggest towers can bring a certain feeling of insecurity, and even if I don’t particularly appreciate those measures, I am civilized enough to comply. Of course “no weapons allowed” makes me smile when I am in the country by excellence where firearms are legal and can be purchased in drugstores… When it does not make me smile anymore is when my multifunction pocket knife is now tagged as “a weapon”, I personally can hardly consider that small pliers and retractable tools thing a “weapon”, the knife part is hardly as wide as my hand and can barely cut a slice of bread… Honestly you should check my hands; they are by far a more efficient “weapon”…

Anyway, I can check my pocket knife and get it back on my way back (like I did for the empire state building yesterday) right? Well guess again! Not here, no sir, not for the ferry to Liberty Island you can’t… I had the nice lady striping me down get an officer who told me (looking at my knife like it was a war machine) “Sir, you cannot board with this, and if I take it you won’t get it back…” (why is that, it falls into a dark portal beyond the twilight zone?)

Amazing, this occurred right in front of the statue of liberty. Does they know “liberty” (liberté) means freedom in French?

Well one thing I know for sure, stupidity (stupidité) means the same both in English and French…

Note on terrorism: USA was one of the last occidental countries to be hit. I was in France in the years of “TERROR!!” (well of course French people never used such a dramatic word) 10 to 15 years ago, when bombs were exploding in the subway on a monthly basis, or were found in front of schools, department stores and such… I lived thru that, probably did not hit CNN as much as 11/09, but overall the toll in human life was close to the WTC tragedy. So I understand “security”, but I still can’t excuse stupidity…

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 Communication between two people goes:

• What he/she thinks
• What he/she wants to say
• What he/she believes he/she says
• What he/she actually says
• What you want to hear
• What you believe you hear
• What you actually hear
• What you want to understand
• What you think you understand
• What you actually understand

That’s a lot of reasons for miscommunication…

Two schizoids communicating will be more like:

• What the schizoid says is exactly what he thinks
• What he/she wants to say
• What he/she believes he/she says
• What he/she actually says
• What you want to hear
• What you believe you hear
• What you actually hear
• What you want to understand
• What you think you understand
• What the schizoid understands is exactly what he hears

Too bad schizoids don’t communicate so much, we will be awesomely good at it

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If you have read the article about the causes of SPD, you might remember I promised to dig a little more in details about my case. If you did not read it, I suggest you do it now: http://schizoid-personality.110mb.com/inner-thoughts/we-know-the-effects-but-what-are-the-causes/

On the genetics front:

My dad was definitively an introvert. I clearly remember him enjoying working in is wood shop, all alone (he re-made both apartments we lived in, integrating furniture, closets, putting separations and such). When he was not in his shop, he was reading, and after the death of his parents, he was in their home (40km outside the city) all week-ends, gardening and doing handy work by himself.
I remember him murmuring to himself, stopping when he sensed another presence in the same room. He also had some body language (eyebrow rising, slight shrouding…) completely off topic with what was happening around him (especially around the dinner table), and I know now those were responses to his own train of thoughts since I happen to do the same from time to time

So introvert he was, for sure, but I miss more details to be able to know if he was “just” introvert or had fully developed a “disorder”. For example, he had always some socialisation with his coworkers (though usually to have some drinks after work). I’ve never seen him trying to dodge a family reunion (like I always do…) in fact we were at my grandparents once a week, rotating between paternal and maternal side for a long time. He was at ease with big reunions like weddings, birthdays, etc… Chatting and joking.

On my mom side I cannot see anything genetically tied to introversion or such. (and it seems I dodged the respiratory issues).

So yes if genetics are a defining factor (still not proven yet), then I have some assets in there.

Read the rest of this entry »

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Je suis comme un électron et tu es mon noyau, mon centre.

Sans toi j’errerais sans but comme un bateau sans son ancre.

Il est certes peu d’endroits où je me sente bien,

mais l’un de ces havres est au creux de tes seins.

Et si je suis froid, souvent distant,

j’ai aussi mes pulsions par moment;

Dans la cuisine au détour d’un comptoir,

ou au sommet des escaliers, comme un promontoire,

c’est une main dans le cou

ou un simple bisou

qui révèle en cet instant

ce que je ressens vraiment.

Alors à ceux qui te demandes si ton mari t’aime,

dis leurs qu’il t’aime plus que tous ces maris bohêmes.

Dis leur qu’il ne boit pas pour t’oublier

et que jamais il ne t’a ni ne pourrait te tromper.

Et s’ils te demandent s’il est tendre est attentionné

dis leur que non, mais qu’il a le mérite de le savoir et d’essayer.

Dis leur que ça le ronge, dis leur qu’il a mal

et que même s’il pleure à l’écrit, rien n’y fait à l’oral.

Et puis non tiens, ne leur dis rien, il s’en fout

tout ce qu’il veut c’est t’avoir au creux de son cou.

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