Connected Yet Removed

CONNECTEDYET REMOVED

The people that know me and interact with me often remark that I always seem attuned to people and my environment. They remark about how I know so much about certain things, that I have clearly experienced a lot and retained the benefit of this experience. My awareness of matters is high and it is often commented on how I am able to “plug in” to something and instantly understand it, know how it works and what to do. Whether it is a meeting, discussion or event, I always fit in. I am not going to disagree with those comments.

Let us imagine that you are a massive football (soccer for our transatlantic cousins) fan. I listen to how you analyse a forthcoming match and discuss the impact of an expensive new signing. I carefully pay attention as you detail how the opposition centre-half is weak on short passes played into the penalty area. I see your eyes widen and light up with interest as you debate these issues with fellow fans. I make a careful note of what is said by you and the others and store it so that I can regurgitate it later to someone else who is similarly interested in football and pass it off as my own knowledge and observations. I do this with conviction so that nobody recognises that these comments are not my own. I spent the morning before the match that we are attending, reading the sport sections of two quality newspapers and also the satellite broadcaster’s webpage for the match, along with other bits and pieces from around the internet in order to assemble my knowledge for this, our first match together. I knew from your social media postings that you are a passionate fan of this team and as I targeted you I pretended I was as well. I managed to recall key trophies the team had won and recent events from the football club’s website to enable me to demonstrate I was also a committed fan. In the course of the discussion with you and your friends who are also die-hard fans I trot out a piece I memorised from a football writer, tweaking it here and there to give it a ring of authenticity as I explain how the captain, sorry our captain, needs a holding midfielder alongside him to allow him to venture further forward and play key balls to the lone man up front. You all nod in agreement showing admiration in my knowledge despite it being acquired elsewhere. I feel the fuel flowing.

I attend the match with you and see how excited you are by the occasion. Your conversation speeds up as you talk about the team the manager has selected. The smell of beer and hot dogs and pies mixes together on the concourse, heightening the occasion as the singing from the away fans drifts from inside the stadium. An event like this assails the senses. The press of the crowd as it makes its way inside seems to lend energy to you and your pace quickens, causing me to have to speed up to ensure I am not left behind. Once in our seats your face shows how you are eagerly anticipating the game, the chanting and shouting already loud, bouncing around the stadium and competing with the delivery of the pa announcer. All around me I can see nervous anticipation, bullish enthusiasm and well-founded confidence. I listen to the chants so I learn the words enabling me to join in. I watch you as you crane forward in your seat, eyes fixed on the unfolding match, fists clenched and repeated utterances issued loudly to urge your team on. I mimic your exhortions and body language, leaning towards the pitch and then jumping up as your team, now our team, opens the scoring. You hug me and I return the hug, jumping up and down in a replica of the delight that washes across the home crowd. The taunting chants aimed at the opposition ring out and I readily join in, gesturing towards the disconsolate faces in the adjoining stand. A second goal is scored, this time from the cries of delight and the conjoining of profanity and blasphemy the goal is clearly of both quality and importance.

“That puts us on top of the league on goal difference,” you explain as if you are able to see that I am wondering why there is such a heightened reaction to this second goal. I know however that you are not wondering that at all. I know that you are thrilled that I am embracing with such enthusiasm the match, sharing the main passion in your life. I join in with the cheers, the shouting, the cries of frustration and disappointment, the barracking of the referee when he makes a poor decision and ensure I am fully integrated with the experience. I look around me watching the passion, the hope, the fury and the delight etched on the other supporters. The stadium is a cauldron of noise and emotion. I am plugged into this experience alongwith fifty five thousand other people. I can see the emotions are raw and visceral, even primitive.

I see all of this around me yet I feel none of it. I merely mimic everyone else in order to fit in. I am attached to the experience but I feel nothing. I am completely detached from it. All it does is serve  a purpose to enable me to create and build bridges and ties with you. I can see how it all affects you, it is clear to see. I am there yet I am not. I am connected yet removed. This is how it feels, or rather, this is how it does not.

 

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9 thoughts on “Connected Yet Removed”

  1. This is one of the most powerful things I’ve read on this site. At some point in the target’s recovery I think we feel pity for that. When every emotion is heightened (they love the bipolar, too), it’s hard to imagine not feeling, unless, as a bipolar individual that has experienced the cyclical “meh.” of profound, recurrent depression. Like someone with a head cold, staying in bed a day or two, but you know someone with lupus, RA and fibromyalgia that can’t move fore days on end. Feeling nothing is torture for me, and maybe that’s one of the reasons I gravitate towards narcs, The drama prior to disengagement, however uncomfortable, causes feelings. Sometimes I need that. It’s part of my “ideal” of love, SOME intensity and head butting. Growing up with bipolar, nonNSP, empathic drinkers, drunken arguments are part and parcel.

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  2. Oh man that sounds like a lot of work. Wouldn’t it make more sense to develop an interest of your own and bond with people that way? Then you’ll enjoy the night via the interest and possibly meet someone as well.

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  3. “The people that know me and interact with me often remark that I always seem attuned to people and my environment”…

    Narcissism fails into an ANTISOCIAL spectrum and no wonder why.

    But.

    Narcissists are very SOCIAL people. Everything they do for all their lives is socializing and studying human’s nature. No wonder why they are the human experts, successful con artists, frauds! Sociology and Psychology are their “second professions”. And they are really good in them. So, Narcissists are SOCIALLY ANTISOCIAL people. Lol.

    “I see all of this around me yet I feel none of it. I merely mimic everyone else in order to fit in. I am attached to the experience but I feel nothing. I am completely detached from it. All it does is serve a purpose to enable me to create and build bridges and ties with you. I can see how it all affects you, it is clear to see. I am there yet I am not. I am connected yet removed. This is how it feels, or rather, this is how it does not”.

    That’s absolutely understandable and, I would dare say, normal. Lack of Empathy is not a “sin”. We just have to accept the fact, that this is a different constitutional type of people. Such people always existed, exist and will be exist. We don’t have to judge someone, because he/she doesn’t cry at funeral or doesn’t know how to sympathize you. That’s really not a problem.

    The problem is the MALICE and ABUSIVE BEHAVIOR, the conscious and active desire to hurt and destroy.

    If Narcs weren’t malicious and abusive, would their lack of empathy bother you at all? I guess, that many of us would say “no”. Including me.

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      1. By the way, Tudor, if someone asks you “Do you have a hobby?”, you can answer “Why, yes. Sociology and Psychology” and it wouldn’t be a lie!

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  4. I LOVE reading your posts, Noname!

    HG, does this article also apply to your attending your DM concerts that – by all comments/observations – you enjoy?

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