The Psychology of Dexter - Bella DePaulo [49]
Dexter is in his early thirties and yet he is a blank slate when it comes to answering the question “Who am I?” More than enough psychological studies indicate that the answer to this question involves other people, namely significant attachment figures (a.k.a. friends and family). Identity is more a reflection than anything else. Who we think we are is significantly informed by the feedback we receive from others.
Thus, to a degree, the evolution of Dexter’s identity is in the hands of those around him. And a glance into his internal world reveals a battle between the “angelic” and “devilish” members of his external world.
Much research exists on the human need to organize beliefs about the self, other people, and the world into a coherent narrative. Healthy identity flows from an integrated view of all three, and leads to deeper insight into oneself, an attitude of flexible optimism toward others, and a hopeful belief in the world. Devil figures, either implicitly or explicitly, engender an unhealthy narrative in which the opposite happens. The self is viewed with ignorance, others are cast in a suspicious light, and the world is perceived as a hopeless place. The result of such a narrative is dissatisfaction with oneself and disconnection from the world.
Dexter’s identity is primarily ruled by devils. First there are his different selves—the traumatized child that feels helpless and frightened, the alienated adolescent fearful of his own rage, and, of course, the adult calmed by murder—which create a lot of inner turmoil and negative emotion. Watching his mother die, experiencing alienation from his peers, and harboring secrets about his identity are all experiences that he needs to explain to himself in order to reduce their emotional intensity. The explanation offered by his (sometimes) misguided father Harry—another devil, though a complicated one—was that Dexter had within him a dark force that could be channeled but never fully controlled—that this was who he was, and he could not change that. His psychotic brother Brian’s appearance reinforced the validity of this explanation, since he and Dexter shared the same genes as well as the desire to kill. Even more devils followed. His nightmarish Narcotics Anonymous sponsor, Lila, taught him to regret intimacy when she inexplicably transformed from an understanding lover into a violently mistrustful, sometimes paranoid stalker of Fatal Attraction proportions. Miguel, the monster-in-hiding, furthered this pessimistic view of humanity by teaching Dexter that friendship can be a seductive form of betrayal. Whether through misguided advice or idiosyncratic misdeeds, these figures relayed the same message: “Like us, you, Dexter, are a tragic figure doomed to live within a broken mind, amongst enemies disguised as friends, within an unforgiving world that would reject you if it knew the truth.”
These voices have coalesced in the back of his mind, creating an overwhelming self-loathing that dominates his identity, particularly his interpretation of his need to kill. It may appear on the surface that Dexter pursues death and blood in the same way that a heroin addict pursues his next fix. Not true. Recall those moments in which Dexter has reflected upon his murderous