5s are most explicitly antisocial of all the types. They are that way because they are so sensitive.
5s are polarised about boundary issues in the following way: They are extremely emotionally sensitive — often hypersensitive — so to protect this sensitivity, they develop unusually strong boundaries. These boundaries feature detachment. Non-involvement — being just an observer — is one way of ensuring that one is not invaded. Fives fear invasion and of being overwhelmed. Their island is protected by distance, not by hostility or placation.
Even though a 5 loves someone, a 5 keeps their distance (‘Un Coeur en Hiver‘). This is a special 5 loop that causes them much pain. People are attracted to them because of their sensitivity and intelligence. But 5s can be in love with their own constructs. Like 4s who are in love with their own emotions, 5s are in love with their own understandings. This is the reality behind the metaphor of the Ivory Tower.
5s practise the sin of avarice, in Enneagram tradition. But they don’t just hoard money. More frequently, they hoard emotions, time, and the personal giving of time and energy. 5s are antisocial, though not in their manners or even behaviour. They see people as draining them. People are not an asset as much as a liability. The self-talk is that: “I only have so many inner resources, and as often as I interact with people, I am depleted. Not that people are bad, it’s just that they are draining.” 5s describe themselves as a battery: they are drained by social interaction and recharged by solitude.
Loneliness — it takes me aback whenever people ascribe it to themselves with such ease.
I realised I’ve been lonely all my life, and this is how I will always be. I’d never fully understood what loneliness was until someone gave me this definition: the feeling of being alone and the yearning for social interaction. Then it clicked.
Ascribing it to myself feels far too needy. I don’t like coming across to others as overdependent. I want to be fiercely independent — always have. If the desire is so strong, why must this be?
If the desire is so strong, why can’t I have it? Why can’t desire and reality go hand in hand? I thought it was a viable option. How ignorant could I have been? I’m trapped in this limbo, in the physical constraints — of my body, and of this world.
Why can’t the desire be enough? I don’t want this anymore. I don’t want to be here. But here is where I will have to remain, against my will.