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anxiety, parenting

Confessions of a (slightly) sociopathic parent.

As we know, parenting is hard. Parenting a social child when you are not even mildly socially inclined…excruciating. I am not an actual diagnostically worthy sociopath, but if we look at the root of the word, I probably fit the bill.

A little dictionary for your day.

According to Merriam Webster’s Dictionary, the simple definition of sociopath:

noun  so·cio·path \ˈsō-sē-ə-ˌpath, ˈsō-sh(ē-)ə-\
  • : someone who behaves in a dangerous or violent way towards other people and does not feel guilty about such behavior

This is actually not me. I am not dangerous or violent [really, trust me…] but if we look at the root of the word:

  • : society

  • : social and

We actually should logically extend sociopath to mean someone who suffers from society. I am not sure what the psychs over at the APA are doing, but I think they have it all wrong.

Now that I’ve cleared that up [and I’m still not violent or dangerous].

G loves people and can talk to just about anyone. That is evidenced right now by the active chatter with some children online from all over the world (the whole online chat being a topic for another day). I can take him anywhere, and he will immediately engage in some kind of discourse with random strangers about current events, politics, sports, weather, you name it [the stranger danger lesson did not take well with this kid]. It’s actually kind of awesome to watch.

This kid can walk into a classroom and it’s like Norm just came home to Cheers. A true social butterfly. I haven’t the slightest idea where he got this talent from–his dad certainly wasn’t and I definitely am not of this caliber. So what’s a slightly sociopathic parent to do when dragged into [yet another] social situation by a loquacious little man? I am open to advice. Right now, I fake it.

Fake it until…

The old adage says “fake it ’til you make it”. Whoever said that is a damn liar. Fake it until your anxiety overwhelms you and you curl into the fetal position in the backseat of your car is more like it. Fake it until you break [down]. Before any of the aforementioned psychs start spouting about “social anxiety” and “social phobia”…it’s not that at all. I just run out of things to say and cannot bring myself to care about engaging in banter any longer.

Don’t get me wrong, I love a good, lively conversation [does this negate everything I have said previously?] I just can’t bring myself to give a crap about social niceities. Debating topics is second nature to me, but most people don’t seem to grasp the difference between debate and argument [we do not have to get emotional all the time, people] and most surface social interaction does not lend itself to sufficient time to have meaningful interaction. I hate pleasantries. Loathe them.

Okay, so I have issues.

Like I said…parenting is hard, especially so when you are an only parent and have a serious personality mismatch with your child. If you came here looking for answers, sorry to disappoint you [again]. I’m just here to reassure you–you are not alone.


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