Lately I’ve been watching a pretty stupid documentary series on HBO called “Signs of a Psychopath.” Am I the only person who watches stuff like this and then starts wondering if I fit the bill for the diagnosis? I don’t think I’m sadistic or lacking in empathy and I certainly don’t torture small animals. But what about “impression management,” glibness, and superficial charm, which are all apparently signs of a psychopath as well? Doesn’t everyone practice impression management? It seems to me that a lawyer’s entire career is an exercise in impression management. Let me tell you how to perceive my client. He’s the good guy and you want to believe my story of why we are not at fault. Let me persuade you why you should believe that.
I know I am probably not a psychopath. I’m too compulsive and anxious about what other people think. Too guilty. But there’s times I do things despite “the rules.” I remember once we were leaving a medical appointment with Sarah, and there was a basket of stickers for the kids. Sarah really loved stickers when she was a certain age. So I got her three or four of them, despite the fact that there was a sign posted that said something like “Only one sticker per child please!” Max was teasing me, pointing out “The sign says only one sticker per child.” And I responded, “Clearly that doesn’t apply to Sarah.” Is that the sign of a psychopath?
I guess I just felt like she deserved more treats, more presents, more rewards, maybe because life didn’t provide her with the same little natural payoffs and treats it gave other kids. She couldn’t run through the sprinkler, or be the first person in line, or catch fireflies, or play tag.
We soft of did those things with her, or tried to, but it’s not the same when your parents are stage-managing your entire life, playing Duck, Duck, Goose by running with you in their arms. So I let her have an extra long turn on the swings when she was little, even when other kids were waiting. I don’t know if that was wrong of me.
The First Year Without Sarah 