All names have been changed to protect my innocent ass.

The Loyal Disciple is a Psychiatrist.

When I first met Dr Esbe in 2006, I was immediately taken by his charisma. He seemed like someone who wasn’t a psychiatrist — easy going, charming, with a quick and easy-smile; so as far as shrinks go, he seemed relatively normal.

As a comparison, I’ve seen two other shrinks in my life — one would easily fit in the ADHD¹ category, while the other would probably feel at home in the OCD² group. But Dr Esbe seemed more like the LDA³ type to me.

Additionally, since I have no medical insurance, Dr Esbe agreed to take me on pro-bono. Because of that, I wanted to give something in return. Something of value. I knew it would make me feel much better about it, since I was not used to getting stuff for nothing. My botched surgery of a few years ealier has made me see life from vantage points I never imagined. continue reading…

 
Maybe you’re in a position now that requires you to hire staff. That usually means you also have the responsibility to let others go.

People working for me had to work really hard to lose their job. When I identified someone as losing focus, passion, or ambition, I’d climb aboard. I wanted to find out what was causing the change. Generally, one doesn’t go from a valued employee to a questionable employee just as a whim.

It may not be something they wanted to talk about at first, and that’s OK, as it was not the most important aspect. I respected their privacy, and they knew that. But after they realized I was truly concerned about them, and my focus was on their well-being, they virtually always opened up. When we got to that point, I felt fairly sure that I saved a good employee.

There’s usually something at the base of it all, something responsible for the trauma — potentially outside the office environment — and that “something” can usually be fixed. Usually.  But what if it’s an excellent employee who became ineffective, virtually overnight, as well losing his ability to keep his high performance and work-quality ratings? This is someone who’s been with the company a long time. continue reading…

For three years before I was born, even with another sister between us, Kathy got all dad’s attention. Old family photos hold many secrets. Kathy was always in dad’s lap. Marcia was always in mom’s.

Mom was pregnant again. If my folks didn’t have a boy, that would put an end to any future generations of our family branch. In that vein, Marcia was probably a disappointment of sorts, not being a boy, which contributed to Kathy maintaining dad’s favor after Marcia was born.

It’s a Boy.

Namesake, even. Photos of me being held by every distant relative, many whom had not appeared in any previous family photos, and virtually no sign of Kathy in any of those early photos. continue reading…

An overwhelming trait of sociopaths is that they are void of common human emotions. Besides having no remorse or guilt, they do not have the ability to love, feel compassion, or be passionate. They are busy building their following, spewing their manipulative lies, and feeling the need to be the center of attention.

Therefore, it would seem to infer that those who are genuinely opposite to the above — individuals with true human emotions, and are content with a few good friends over a mass of gullible followers — are less likely to be sociopaths. Maybe not just less likely, but most likely.

The Process of Elimination

Maybe the process of elimination would be an accurate determination of not only who isn’t but who may well be.

The Shy-Types

In very general terms, how about people who have a quiet disposition, generally stick to themselves, those who may be considered shy. At work, they actually spend their time doing their job instead of schmoozing with whoever happens to be in the lunchroom. Sociopath? I would bet not. continue reading…

. . . continued from Part 2
Back Surgery, November 7, 2001, 06:00, Piedmont Hospital.

2001 Nov 7, Wed

Karan, a woman I had met just a few months earlier, had offered to drive me to the hospital. It was not convenient for her in the least, either.

She had to drive an hour to get to my home from her’s, then travel another hour to get to the hospital. When we pulled up, I told Karan she could just drop me off at the entrance.

Her response was a very firm, “No way, I’m walking in with you.”

Karan won that dispute as she drove right to the parking deck and found a convenient spot. As soon as I checked-in, I was told they were ready for me in pre-op, so Karan gave me a hug, and wished me the best.

Within minutes of arriving in pre-op, they had run an IV, and suddenly, I had not one single care in the world. Shortly thereafter, my life was in the hands of an unnamed anesthesiologist.  continue reading…