I haven't been writing here particularly much since Ive been feeling that most of what is discussed these days is a rehash and most questions on socionics that people ask I've already answered so it doesn't seem to important to repeat myself all the time.
I'm now writing here mainly because this is the only place I've felt comfortable expressing my negative feelings for quite some time. That's something really rare. Anyway, I've been handling this thing like a blog on the basis that it might be possible for people to learn something about what ever type I am at any particular time by reading it. I continue to suppose that I'm an ESTj and so the continuation in using this thread.
First of all, I no longer find it easy to act ENTj, I'm much more complete ESTj these days. The discomfort I experienced in the beginning is gone. There is no longer any need for the showy bursts of anger that I used to experience. The sense of duty, complimented by a sense of estrangement from other people is now all-encompassing. There is a sort of hopelessness that is balanced by a feel of personal control I haven't had for a long time. A strange thing that somewhat interests me is that in my clinical work I'm loved by my patients. Not a week goes by that I don't hear extra compliments and favourable comparisons to other, more experienced clinical doctors. This despite that I feel a sort of mixed disgust, fear and hatred towards my patients. It is these feelings that feed my sense of duty and politeness towards them. I need to mask my actual feelings somehow. It also pushes me toward greater exertions in making correct diagnoses and finding better treatments for their ailments. I do not expect any leniency or any mercy if I happen to make a mistake. Naturally I do make them though usually I'm the only one to notice. This feeds my humility. I can not rest. And yet, still despite being constantly stressed I'm sleeping better than for years. My insomnia is gone. All the problems around me seem easy enough to handle as long as I give all of my attention to the problems around me.
Interestingly it feels impossible that I could have written some of the things I have written on the forum. Some of the messages seem so useless, so odd. Even the idea that I've spent such a major amount of time with a simple technique like socionics feels strange.
Another interesting feeling I have is as if everyone around me was intellectually particularly slow. Now usually this is of course correct since I treat a whole lot of dementia patients but that's not the real issue. The real issue is that this is not accompanied by a feeling of personal intelligence. I mean, I actually do feel sharper than I used to a couple of years ago, but my own personal failures are constantly so apparent to me that I do not feel I am a particularly smart or good or succesfull in any way. The problem is just that the people around me seem so abysmally horribly stupid that it's almost surreal. No, not surreal. Actually everything feels very concrete at the moment, very not -surreal. They feel more like blocks of wood, or animatronic dolls.
Yet another interesting thing that I've found is a common ground with the main character of "American psycho". I used to think that the book was simply a pulp novel about a mixture of high class life style and depraved violence. I used to ignore the several cases in which the main character suggests that his main motivation is simply to blend in, quite strange coming from a character that cuts people up for fun. Yet it is exactly this attempt to blend in, to imitate mechanically the actions of others that is the primary cause of the violence. Unable to see the full purpose of the behaviours he imitates, the main character feels victimized by others, having to follow nonsensical rules. He simultaneously detests anyone who breaks the rules of for example "having to wear designer clothes" yet he also hates the rule itself and what it does to him. His actual warm feelings are toward a person who is simply out of the world that he inhabits, towards his secretary who is simply too genuine, too warm, too caring to have anything to do with the rules he imagines. From the main character's point of view his murderous urges are not only random aggression, they are acts of vengeance. Read into that what you will. I also feel the urge to remind that I too cut people up, well, weekly. It's just that people ask me to do that and thank me afterwards.
Writing these matters has given me a sense of fulfillment for now. Nice. Ready to slip behind my mask of normalcy again.
As a side note I am slowly continuing to do work in finding practical tools for controlling one's life through socionics. I'm not yet certain that there will be an end product that is worthy of being written here about.
And finally, about the superlatives thread... I've cured a couple of cancers this year. I also intend to continue being helpful and intimidating.
Be scared, be very very scared