Interpersonal Strategy and Associated Irrational Ideas

With the term fixation, we refer to the cognitive part of the character that Naranjo defines as “hidden cognitive disorder.” It is a system of interpreting reality that is guided and fueled by the primary passion. “Every fixation constitutes, so to speak, the rationalization of the corresponding passion.” Therefore, its ability to know events will inevitably be partial, fixed, and in any case, distorted. It carries the illusion (not visible to consciousness) that reality, seen in this way, is more controllable. A series of beliefs branch out from this core, also rigid and absolutized, which are not in contact with a healthy examination of reality: the “crazy ideas.”

In the E5, the fixation is isolation, understood both as a rationalization of one’s own behavior and as a way of organizing the content of experience.

“Isolation is perhaps the first thing I learned to do with movement. I lie, that is, I move to withdraw, to protect myself, to shield myself from others. I isolate myself from people and, at the same time, paradoxically, from myself.” — Martha F.

“Isolation also occurs cognitively: my mind works by organizing categories and patterns. This order helps me not to scatter and not to feel so tired afterward.” — Camila L.

In the Self-Preservation 5, the neurotic need for refuge finds its cognitive consolidation in a view of the external world as unattractive and cannibalistic, and of oneself as a self-sufficient entity.

This character builds their adaptation program around a core of functional autonomy in which others represent an impediment or interference to maintaining balance.

The contents experienced by the E5 go through a process of compartmentalization, which manifests in this subtype as a cognitive rigidity that is functional for flattening the communication flow with the outside world.

Isolation not only separates the mind from reality but also parts of the mind from each other: the “matters” or different areas are organized into airtight compartments that do not relate to one another.

The E5 makes the categorical and radical decision in childhood to isolate for survival, in an attempt to respond to the world around them – which they perceive as inhospitable – and to control emotional chaos.

“The world seems like a wild and inhospitable place, and I feel helpless in front of it.” — Manuela R.

Their childhood is characterized by distant, cold, and at the same time invasive parental figures.

“My mother didn’t tell anyone about her family while she was giving birth; only afterward. And as he was in the final exams of the test, the first thing he asked, already consciously, was for a typewriter. I had hepatitis twice, but no one noticed the first time.” — Yashmir H.

Many E5s grow up in a threatening context, with abuse from the mother or one of the figures who should have cared for the child. It’s not uncommon for the parents to be absent. What a Five learns, even if unconsciously, is that if the primary relationship is so demanding, violent, and treacherous, it’s better not to venture into any kind of relationship.

“My mother’s idea that I would be safe only at home was also betrayed. I decided I couldn’t trust my mother. When I experienced abuse from a neighbor and my brother, she blamed me and said I had sought it out. I was made to look like a liar; she didn’t believe me. I stopped telling her things and started keeping everything to myself.” — Rita P.

It is common among Fives to experience not being believed and not having evidence to prove what they defend or the strength to assert themselves. Many E5s share the irrational idea of “I don’t have the right to ask, to complain, to whine” or “I don’t have the right to exist.”

Regardless of whether or not they have a financially comfortable situation, a Five sees themselves as alone, after quickly learning that the price to pay for what is commonly called the “love tax” – which in practice is neither warmth nor love – is very high, because it involves being consumed by the mother, first and foremost. The first “lesson” they inevitably learn, which immediately transforms into a crazy idea, perhaps the most serious of all, is: “Love doesn’t exist… it’s manipulation… so it’s better to be alone.”

“Only something dangerous can come from the outside world, and therefore love is not of this world.” — Nicola B.

The most logical solution, then, seems to be to isolate oneself physically and mentally. It is primarily an internal isolation. Life happens in a desert void that prevents any connection, because “contact is painful.” Fragmentation is necessary to maintain this salvific isolation. And all of this is worsened by the lack of relational tools. It is a common experience for Fives to see the world of relationships as a game whose rules are unknown and cannot be learned; they are too complicated.

“It’s like playing a game whose rules I don’t know and in which I’m lost. For many years, I didn’t know there were rules I didn’t know, and the feeling was that I didn’t understand anything. For example, at school, I didn’t understand the complicity and

familiarity with which some girls interacted with each other; it was unsettling. Some colleagues from my first job congratulated me for my birthday by SMS (it was a holiday). I was excited to receive the messages. When I returned to work, many asked if I had received the congratulations, as I hadn’t responded to them. I hadn’t even thought about it. That was the feeling: learning very basic things in the blink of an eye. There are moments when I’d like to relate, and I don’t know how to do that, I don’t have the tools. I want something, and it seems like you show exactly the opposite.” — Manuela R.

The experience of feeling alien or invisible, with the subsequent fantasies about it, is structured in childhood as “I’m not from this world.”

“In kindergarten… even back then, it was hard for me to approach other kids. I would stay on the outside, unable to approach them to join the game. I would watch them and wait for them to finish. Then I would go to the toys they left behind and play with them alone. Loneliness has been one of the great constants of my experience.” — Nicola B.

This leads to an increasing disinterest in relationships, a detachment that causes them to care only about their own things. The crazy idea they cling to is: “It’s not worth it.”

“Looking at my belly button all day… and the other person doesn’t exist.” — Manuela R.

This attitude is accompanied by a conviction (supported by a physical experience): not having enough strength to sustain a confrontation. The crazy idea arises of “I’m self-sufficient, I don’t need anyone”; reducing my own needs to the minimum, until they almost disappear; and a hiding place until I become invisible. Turning to this fixation of isolation, this character falls into physical and mental stagnation.

Very soon, the Self-Preservation 5 learns – after giving up on expecting something (good) from others – to just wait:

“I learned to reduce my needs to the minimum, and waited for their satisfaction instead of going towards it. When I was little, my mother would forget to feed me because she didn’t feel the need.

I wasn’t protesting, I was just waiting. They also say that I was always cold because my mother didn’t keep me warm and didn’t protest either.” — Yashmir H.

Similar experiences lead to choosing isolation as a means of survival, in a loneliness where “my time is my greatest treasure.”

“I don’t like submitting to a schedule, I don’t like not being able to eat at my time, and I would also leave very tired. The fact that they want me to do things quickly kills me; I resist a lot.” — Yashmir H.

“I learned to reduce my needs to the minimum and wait for their satisfaction instead of going towards it. When I was little, my mother would forget to feed me because she didn’t feel that need. I didn’t protest, I just waited. They also comment that I was always cold because my mother didn’t keep me warm, and she also didn’t protest.” — Yashmir H.

Similar experiences lead to choosing isolation as a means of survival, in a loneliness where “my time is my greatest treasure.”

“I don’t like submitting to a schedule, I don’t like not being able to eat at my times, and on top of that, I’d leave very tired.” — Yashmir H.

If you isolate yourself from the world, always and under any circumstance: the motto sounds like: “I’m better alone to recover my strength”; “Isolation is what allows me to survive… it keeps me alive.”

“I follow the course of my thoughts. I become, I am, I identify with my thoughts that, madly, become the only thing important. Today not so much, but until recently, I would leave the house solely and exclusively to go to work.” — Marta F.

An isolation, as we’ve already said, that is not only relational but also very internal, leads to the crazy idea that everything is classifiable.

“There is a mental and programming isolation where everything is categorized, and patterns are sought in which everything fits perfectly. This order becomes a way of unloading energy and all the stress, and also of saving energy; that is, as long as everything fits and has its place, there’s less wear and tear when looking for it, because it’s simplified. I see what happens in my mind reflected in my computer full of folders, in how I divide the day and the tasks.” — Camila L.

Hand in hand with isolation is the search for silence, both external and internal. “Silence is always better and in silence” – which elevates the tendency toward introversion to the nth degree.

“The search for external silence is the mirror of the search for internal silence, an attempt to silence the mind, but (…) paying attention to its contents, analyzing them, observing them, trying to know them more and more (perhaps more deeply?), as if digging and knowing, from the knowledge, silence could arise.” — Marta F.

This attempt to reach inner silence is – as you can already imagine – a futile search, because:

“There is so much mental noise. My head thinks and thinks nonstop; it’s like going around in circles, without necessarily getting anywhere. I can go around a topic and start over and over again.

It’s living in my head without acting. Two disconnected worlds: my head, with its thoughts, and reality. Like two rooms separated by a thick wall, with no doors or openings connecting them.

It’s a square mind, not flexible at all, where planning is unmovable. If we meet to go to the movies and, in the end, the plans change, it’s a terrible thing, I can’t adapt; not only is the plan dismantled, but “my whole life” is dismantled.” — Manuela R.

This total trust the Fives place in thoughts and the subsequent attachment is expressed in the crazy idea that “if I think enough about something, I will find a solution”; or “it’s better to solve everything on my own.”

Isolation is supported by other crazy ideas, such as “The world is dangerous, at home I am safe.”

“Why go out? You’re safer at home. There’s chaos out there. People who want to drain you and feed on your little energy. And furthermore, I’m afraid of going out, of leaving the ‘safe’ space. The fear of losing everything if you’re not present. The fear of existing and not existing.” — Angelica A.

The Self-Preservation 5 isolates itself from others that, initially, it judges as invasive: “He, another person will hurt me.” Since it can’t establish a boundary, it isolates itself preventively, according to the logic that “it’s always better alone.” When this isn’t possible and it’s “at the mercy” of others and their requests, it resorts to other strategies, going so far as to remain motionless, voiceless, not responding in any way, while its thoughts take refuge in that inner cave until it seems to disappear.

“On the other hand, with people, in public, I get blocked, without thinking, blank.” — Manuela R.

When someone asks a question, it usually goes through the experience of “blank thinking,” which is nothing more than yet another form of withdrawal.

“When I don’t feel comfortable with the people around me, I lose my voice and can’t express what I need or what I like, being mechanically taken from here to there. That’s why

I prefer to distance myself from these people, so I don’t feel helpless, and that’s how I stop interacting.” — Yashmir H.

This attitude, which is often unconscious, ends up hurting the other person. This leads the other to express their disappointment, but the Self-Preservation 5 doesn’t know how to be in a conflict situation. It has a guiding principle in life, the obligation to never hurt anyone in any way. This leads to another crazy idea: “If I’m harsh or confrontational, I’ll hurt myself,” which convinces them they don’t have the strength to remain in the world.

Aggression then turns against itself. This character slides into self-censorship regarding relational incapacity, an aspect that feeds back into the conviction that isolation is the only way to survive, in a vicious cycle.

“This space, which is my world, ultimately covers the fear of risking contact with others because I reject myself and do not accept myself as I am. It is an escape from the suffering that this rejection brings, because it is a very deep pain, without words, like living with the monstrosity of myself constantly.” — Camila L.

Isolation and silence are also weapons of defense and aggression, since “I can never fully trust people.” This system is learned from an early age, often through sudden and unexpected invasions or excessive demands, where the only way out is to sink into a silent distance, devoid of any movement or action, provoking growing anger in the other.

“I avoid any form of relational commitment, at any level, a priori. Isolation, silence, are a very violent form of defense-aggression, a form of disobedience or, perhaps better, of anarchy that, by not recognizing the other or authority, simply walks away. The only weapon I had with my mother was to remain still and silent.” — Marta F.

“I feel the vital need for solitude, and when I can’t obtain it because I feel demanded or required by the outside world, I feel a self-censorship (not always explicit and conscious) for my lack of boundaries, for not establishing my space.” — Camila L.

Another crazy idea behind isolation is: “If I am not able to set boundaries, it is because I am small and do not deserve to live.”

The general atmosphere of an E5 is one of fragility. Isolation protects a small vital point inside, extremely precious, a rare treasure. You can’t even imagine how the other comes to threaten this success because it is barely enough for them. The other comes to threaten this success, with the irrational conviction associated with the idea that “the other will hurt me.”

Allowing someone into your own space or leaving it to find a relationship with the world (leaving the treasure “unguarded”) are extremely dangerous eventualities, as it is certain

that the other has taken, by any means—asking, manipulating, abusing, deceiving, looting, or killing—that small vital part. “The only way to protect myself is to isolate.”

The course of a life like this moves toward continuous and often exponential contraction, in the crazy idea that “only isolation allows survival.”

“Resources are few (in energy, knowledge, abilities of all kinds) [to] be in a world where everything seems distant and unattainable, and that is not for me.” — Camila L.

The crazy idea here is associated with scarcity: leaving the little you have is very dangerous. “If you go out, the resources will run out and cannot be replenished.” This is the irrational thought that sustains the passion of Greed.

“The relationship, whatever it may be, is dangerous. Moreover, since I don’t have much for myself, much less to give, there is really nothing that anyone would want to do with me. So, I avoid any kind of contact a priori, and this prevents any possibility of the other asking me anything.”

“For many years I didn’t have friends. Then, a friendship arose, but between us there were, and still are, eight hundred kilometers of distance. As if telling me that something like a friendly relationship is also possible, but at a suitable distance.” — Marta F.

This rigid system of self-referential functioning, which seems so rigid, secure, and resistant to invasions, actually has many weak points, one of which relates to ingenuousness. Having “learned” from the E5 that love doesn’t exist, that it doesn’t exist, that you don’t need to trust anyone, and that the only way to survive is to isolate, and not having “relational tools,” it is very likely that you fall into ingenuousness, at the cost of reconfirming the pattern that justifies isolation.

“Despite the distrust, the barriers, and the distances I put with others, I have a point of ingenuousness where I don’t see the bad intentions of others, and then I feel used.

For example, a colleague at work told me to go eat, and I thought everything was fine; then I discovered that she did that because the colleagues she was supposed to eat with that day couldn’t. I felt used and blamed myself: How didn’t I see that something was happening, that it wasn’t normal for her to invite me to eat?” — Manuela R.

We can perceive in these testimonials the proximity between E5 and E4 regarding the experience of lack; with the difference that the Five is isolated in their mind, while the Four is trapped in their plane.

Isolation is, therefore, both a consequence and a principle at the same time. Internal compartmentalization isolates emotions from the field of experience. They do not exist. For

this reason, despite the introverted appearance, which would suggest a deep self-knowledge, what this character is is far from their inner world.