This blog is basically a diary. I write whatever I want and don’t really care what people think. I don’t care that I ramble about pointless things, I don’t care that I offer nothing of value that anyone else might find interesting or informative. It’s just me, my thoughts, and stream of consciousness rambling.
To that purpose, I will now talk about one of my favorite shows, one which I recently just re-watched all 4 seasons in a couple of days.
The reason I love this show so much, and may, may even like it more than Doctor Who (I know!) is the Sherlock character.
In some ways I feel I am like him (don’t roll your eyes, I’ll get to it in a moment) and in others I aspire to be like him.
Of course I am jealous of the intelligence. I am jealous of the deduction abilities which seem reasonable and realistic enough when being explained via the show but is something I’ve never noticed an actual human being to be able to do even remotely close. I am envious of the “mind palace” and the memory. I have a horrible memory, it’s one of my weaknesses and regrets in life is my inability to remember things. It’s not alzheimer’s lack of memory where I go into a room and forget why I was there or put my car keys in the freezer, it’s the kind of thing where I can’t remember facts about things years later. It may be why I can enjoy re-watching movies or re-reading books so much, because I forget. Not entirely, but enough that even reading Harry Potter every year I feel like some aspects I am reading for the first time.
I am jealous of Sherlock for the precision machine his mind is. How he can access memories and random bits of information filed away as potentially important on the same level as looking up a file on a computer.
I am also jealous of his observational skills. I could not look at a person and notice that they are left handed because they keep a pen tucked behind their left ear instead of their right. I’m oblivious a lot of the time, to things even more obvious than that. For example, I keep a little statue of Anubis on my desk at work, something a friend gave me years ago. But I don’t look at it much. Oddly, if it’s moved from it’s spot, that I notice. Like if the cleaning crew moved it from my desk to on top of a shelf, I’d notice. But if it just vanished? I doubt I’d notice, at least not for a while. Oblivious.
But Sherlock… he’d walk into my office and point at the spot where it usually stands and ask “what’s missing” probably because he would notice a slight difference in shade of the desk under where it sat for two years, or something. I am envious of that, I wish I noticed things to that level, wish I could make such deductions because I notice such things.
I feel like… if I were put in a room with someone I could spend time inspecting them closely, with a magnifying glass, and I might deduce a few things. Cigarette stains on the teeth: smoker. Indent on their finger where a ring used to be: recently divorced. May be able to guess how long ago based on how sharp the indent is. (I’d only know that because though not married I’ve got a ring that I’ve worn on the same finger for like a decade now and I know what it looks like if I remove it, and what it looks like if I forget to wear it for a week, etc). Short white hairs on their pant legs: owns a cat? or small dog?
But those kinds of things would take me time, would be guesses, perhaps educated guesses but guesses nonetheless. I can’t tell the difference between a cat hair and a dog hair and the hair of a rabbit or ferret. And what if it’s not a wedding ring? Or what if it’s just at the jewelers being repaired?
It’s like a super power, what he does, and I fully accept that it is unrealistic, and that the deductions he makes could often have other interpretations. Basically I know it’s fake. I’m jealous anyway.
Mostly of his mind. I wish I was that smart, that observant, with that good of a memory.
But how am I like him?
He’s emotionally distant, and so am I. Probably not to the degree he is, or maybe I am. I feel my own emotions, under stand them, and understand them in others. Unlike Sherlock I do posses empathy and understanding. But like him, I am uncomfortable in situations where emotions are out in the open. I recoil at the idea of having to be sympathetic and get stressed when I suddenly need to display social norms of interaction concerning how someone reacts to such emotions.
Let me offer some examples. Drastic ones would be things like funerals, where everyone is sad and crying and wanting comfort. I too am supposed to be sad, supposed to cry (but not enough to make a scene) supposed to hug people and offer condolences. I find this very difficult, and in such cases would rather be anywhere else. But I’m sure no one likes funerals.
Another example would be a friend coming to me in person, or even online, wanting to unload their problems. Their boyfriend is being a jerk, their sister won’t answer the phone, their parents are getting a divorce, things of that nature. I assume they want comfort. They want me to respond, offer advice, even just listen but with sympathetic nods or “yea”s or “that’s awful”s at the right moment. Despite understanding how they are feeling I find this difficult.
But then again, maybe everyone does?
I’m asexual, and either Bi or just…gender neutral? It’s more like I don’t care about gender than it is I like both genders, if that makes sense. Now Sherlock of course has 2 physical relationships with women in the show (at least it’s hinted at). The first is with The Woman, Irene Adler. It’s less know with her whether he ever actually does anything physical with her, but I wouldn’t be surprised if the answer is yes. Then there is the woman he fakes a relationship with to get to her boss, and a scene where she comes out of his bedroom in just his shirt and after a moment proceeds to join him in the bathroom. I think it’s safe to assume they were intimate, but did he enjoy it or was he just keeping up the mask?
Then there is the biggest clue of all. When he meets with Magnussen in season 3 episode 3, Magnussen shows the overlay of information from his own mind palace for both John Watson and Sherlock, and both say “Porn Preferences: Normal.” One can’t know for sure, but I would assume that if he were bi or gay it would say so, and if he were as asexual as I in that he doesn’t watch born at all it would say “none” or something. But there are varying degrees to asexuality.
I think it’s fair to say that if Sherlock Holmes wanted women, especially in the later episodes when they become pretty much famous, he’d have no trouble. But John is shocked to the point of incredulity when Sherlock suddenly has a girlfriend, meaning in the years John lives with him he doesn’t bring women home. This leads me to believe that while he may have sexual urges/desires that he may go to porn/masturbation to release, it isn’t as important to him as his mind, a clear head, and case. It could be that he is asexual, and the idea of relationships and sex matter little to none to him, or it could just be that they don’t matter enough to register compared to other things.
I’ve learned that there are different kinds of asexuality. There is mine, where there is zero desire for any kind of relationships or sex, and actual discomfort at physical closeness with people. But there are kinds where if you form a strong bond with a person, such discomforts can be overcome. And kinds where you just don’t care, you can have sex for your partner’s sake but it’s not something you actively seek out. There’s all kinds. Whether Sherlock is asexual or not, whether he is bi or not, he shares enough characteristics in that regard that I find similarity with him.
Beyond intimate relationships there are also other relationships. He becomes quite close with Watson, Mrs. Hudson, Molly, and Lestrade, to the point that I think he considers each one of them as close to him (perhaps even closer) than his own brother, but he doesn’t hug them, or go out to the movies with them, or get them birthday presents. We see a couple social gatherings, one are Christmas, but otherwise he doesn’t seem to spend time with people just for the sake of company and companionship. Nor do I.
I think one reason my mother doesn’t want me to ever move out of the house is on some level she knows that once I have my own place, no one will hardly ever see me again. I am a bit of a contrast here. I do want to live close enough to home that I can return for holidays or special occasions, but I don’t want to live close enough that my parents wan’t me to come around for dinner every week. 90% of the time I want my privacy. I value my time alone to do the things I enjoy.
I think that may also be part of the reason that I lose interest in RP guilds I try to create. I love coming up with the ideas, setting up the websites, creating the characters, even RPing on occasion, but as soon as it switches gears, as soon as there is no more background to create, as soon as members arrive and are asking for my attention for RP and events, I no longer feel engaged, because now things are expected of me. Now I am expected to make myself available, to be dependable and responsible and present.
I wonder of Sherlock feels the same way. I wonder if he too distances himself from relationships to distance himself from the responsibilities of them. If so, then there too we would be alike.