All posts by Lynette d'Arty-Cross

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Rule of Stupid

My idea for a Christmas social space is taking shape. Several Bloggers have offered time to watch the Blog and I’ve now set it up.

The basic idea is that there is a blog people can visit if they find themselves alone this Christmas. It’s not a crisis or support blog, just a place to find some company.

It’s now called Company for Christmas, (original I know!). Feel free to have a look and (please!) leave feedback HERE.

Who knows, if it works maybe we can use the idea to increase collaboration. I’ve put a lot of work into the blog, trying to think how it might run effectively – which has meant I’ve become quite attached to it, and nervous about it being good.

I honestly feel it could be great – I’m just not savvy enough to know how to get the idea properly ‘out there’ to ensure…

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Don’t bother with this guy!

Rule of Stupid

Hi folks, just a quickie.

In my kidney-crushingly funny series on Blogging Tips – I ranted at those annoying bastards who just “like you and run” to drive traffic to their site.

I have now been hit by the most gratuitous like-and-run I’ve yet had. The cretinous Robert Gibb, he of the ‘punch-me-in-the-face-grin’ and smarmy gravatar has liked lots of my posts. He is not even a blogger, not even using a blog to sell – just a straight-forward crap-shop web-site.

So this is me, doing what I can to ‘anti-spam’ that pissant little shit who has defiled my blog. WORDPRESS ARE YOU LISTENING? We deserve the control to remove SPAM likes from our posts – especially from brill-creamed bastards trying to make a fast buck through exploiting peoples paranoia over their body image.

Searching for Robert Gibb and supplements, looking for “truthaboutabs.com” (DO NOT VISIT THIS LINK- it’s a…

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You’re So Vain; You Probably Think This Song Is About You

Why (Carly Simon song)
Why (Carly Simon song) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Carly Simon probably never imagined that this song would grow to represent the narcissists of the world, even though it’s clear that she was dealing with one of her own. Its irony stands as a paean over the adversity and pain wrought by those whose only concern is themselves, who lead you down a path of false trust and love so that they have you before they reveal themselves.

I’ve already discussed how they feel completely empty except for the negative emotions they have about themselves and that they are compelled to drop on others. I believe that the narcissist I was married to was also gay, and that this compounded his self-hatred and his intense feelings of shame.

The conversations that I have had with my counsellor and the reading I have done inform me that growing up with some kind of shame is pretty normal. My interpretation is that unless we feel shame, we will be unable to regulate unacceptable behaviours and internalize a notion of what empathy is and how it functions. Like most things in life, shame is good for us in small doses. Let it get out of control, however, and it becomes a serious impediment that, in the case of the narcissist, can lead to self-hatred and what I call instability of character. In other words, they don’t know who they are.

In “As Gertrude Stein Said, ‘There’s No There There,'”  I discussed how the narcissist will exploit anything that provides an advantage, that they will “become” anything in order to get ahead or to be seen in a flattering light. They also do this so that they can “manufacture” a character. If they are at a party and the small talk turns to food dislikes, they will invent a dislike just so that they will fit in, so that they will have something to say and can have the spotlight focussed on them, even if they have never really thought about it before. Thereafter, for this particular group of people, the narcissist will  insist on a dislike of pomegranates, with accompanying dramatic and illustrated story, such as snorting pomegranate seeds through his nose while driving full-tilt down the highway. Piece by piece, then, the narcissist will concoct what he or she sees as “character.”

The problem with this and where the instability starts to come in is two-fold. First, it starts to become difficult to keep track of “who” you are when there are numerous groups, and perhaps sub-groups, of people. And what about these groups mingling with each other? If the lady from your quilting class suddenly starts also attending your wine-tasting class, then things might get dicey. Yikes! She knows that pomegranate story … or maybe it was that other story, the one about being slung into prison in Angola, left there to rot and stuck listening to that drip, drip, drip on the stone cold floor while great brutes of cockroaches scuttled around looking for a place to build a new bedroom.

Well, the narcissist has an answer for this – one of these classes is going to get the boot. And for good measure, she may never talk to the quilting lady again because that lady has introduced fear into the narcissist’s life and has to be blamed, punished and excised. The fact is that unless the narcissist has settled on a group of “reliable” stories that are told and re-told, none of which are likely to be true, mind you, he or she will compartmentalize.

In other words, no one group of people in the narcissist’s life can mingle with another. There just might be too great an exchange of information, and the narcissist’s construct as a superior and special being might be found out. People might learn that he’s, well, that he’s just ordinary! One of the great ironies about this scenario that the narcissist is just too self-absorbed to get is that unless he forces it, he likely will not be the center of attention; people might have other things to talk about besides him.

It’s also interesting to note that despite the fears that narcissists have of being found out, they can be completely blase if they are found out. They will quickly invent an explanatory lie that on the surface sounds plausible, but on closer examination reveals major faults. They may laugh at you or be aggressively confrontational as  diversionary tactics. They may also just stare and not respond at all, leaving the recipients to believe that there’s something wrong with them. I experienced all of these responses from my former narcissist husband.

The second part of this instability is the narcissist’s profound misunderstanding that having a collection of dramatic/heroic/tragic stories to tell does not constitute character, nor does “acquiring” someone else’s belief system. They absolutely fail to get that the development of a set of principles and beliefs requires years of honing, of examining, of molding and of casting off, and that it is fluid and responsive over time. It is as if they see a shelf of labelled characteristics from which they can choose, like deciding on an outfit for the day. As in Alice in Wonderland, “drink me” comes with a set of  literal and surface results that for the narcissist, are completely “predictable”. “This is what I am” – today.

But underneath all this bullshit is shame. Shame because they believe that everyone else is better than them. Self-hatred because they are incapable of getting past the shame. Makes you want to feel sorry for them, doesn’t it? Don’t. Because if they remember what it was that made them hate themselves and feel ashamed, its reality is only a dim memory – likely it’s been replaced with a story. They may not even recognize that the hate and the shame exist, and if they do, they will certainly deny it. All they know is a frenetic need to fill up that vast nothingness, that vanity, by stealing the very being, the very core, of those who are unfortunate enough to come into contact with them.

What to Do If Married to a Narcissist

Narcissism
Narcissism (Photo credit: overLinedesign)

A little while ago, I had these words show up in my search engine terms.  Whoever you are, this post is for you. I know what you’re going through and how bad it can be. But I also know that there’s relief to be had, that you can get your life back, and that you deserve to have your life back, no matter how guilty and responsible you’re feeling right now or how much you think you are at fault.

First of all, realize that your narcissist cannot be helped. Although some work has been done with them, it  is extremely slow – it takes years before any progress is noticeable, and even then, it will be minor. Really, narcissists are incurable. No amount of love, caring or understanding on your part will help them. Your narcissist will never love or respect you in return. They have absolutely no interest in that and they do not believe that anything is wrong with them.

Secondly, get support. Find a counsellor, a friend, a family member, someone you can trust and who will stand by you, listen to you and unconditionally help you through this. Tell this person what has been happening in your marriage. You are going to need this support because you are going to have to get this narcissist out of your life, especially if you have children. Narcissists can do a lot of damage to children. If you’re feeling unhinged because of your exposure, imagine what it can do to them.

If you can, take your time and plan how you will get this person out of your life and your home – the narcissist should leave, not you. Ask your support person to help you through this planning phase. Be sure to keep your planning secret. I’m sure you’re well aware of the rage that could erupt if your narcissist finds out what you’re doing. In the meantime, do whatever fawning or flattery you have to do to keep your narcissist calm and unaware. Lie if you have to. Get everything that you need in place – paperwork on cars, homes, bank accounts. If necessary, organize care for your children. Find a lawyer. Notify the police and have them on stand-by. And then, in the company of your support person, tell your narcissist that he or she has to immediately leave, and don’t look back.

Whatever you do, stick by the idea of getting your life back. Don’t let the narcissist’s bag of tricks dissuade you from your decision. Because that’s all it is – a bag of tricks. If you fall for it, a week later you will be right back where you started. This plan might sound harsh and almost narcissistic itself, but sometimes we have to do unpleasant things to save ourselves and our children. Remember that you’re entitled to and deserve a life that’s free of narcissistic craziness, and so do they. There’s no reasoning with a narcissist. There’s no living with a narcissist. Unless you want to accept that your life is a part of the narcissistic cesspool, and that that is what your life will be, you have no other choice but to leave.

If you’re not ready to leave yet, find a counsellor or other support person who will listen to you. Read as much as you can. There are good sources here on WordPress – try planetjan, I’m Going Slightly Mad, kimberlyharding-soulhealingart.com, In Bad Company, Scott Williams. There are many, many other sources available. You will find one that works for you.

Good luck! And remember, you are not alone.

I laughed out loud when I first read this – it’s a complete gas! If you haven’t read it yet, enjoy!

Speaker7

Seven people found my blog yesterday using those search terms: do not fear potatoes.

Do people really fear potatoes? According to some random seach engine question and answer thingy, there’s not even a word for potato phobia.

The second most asked question about potato fear was this:

I didn’t realize I wrote much about potatoes, and I have no idea how entering those terms would lead a person to my blog. But since you’re here, I want you to know this–

Potatoes make good detectives . . . because they always have their eyes peeled.

*swish*

Oh–and you shouldn’t fear them. Feel better?

Well you may want to fear that one. That one is definitely not sweet.

I’m hoping now that I’ve mentioned “do not fear potatoes” a number of times, this blog will appear higher in the results for that extremely popular search.

This is why I’m now also…

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Here There Be Dragons

English: Picture of myself, I am a narcissist....

When the ancient cartographers ran out of knowledge about a landmass they were mapping, they often labelled the area with “here there be dragons.” It was a scary unknown with who-knew-what kind of weird critters, maybe barking spiders the size of lawnmowers. It was best for them to say the worst and hope for the best, similar to what many doctors still have to do now. If the worst happens, they’ve covered their butts. If it doesn’t, then everyone is usually happy and relieved and they forget about that “worst” scenario. Or, give it a little time, and it might be thought of as foolish or silly, as we do today when we think of Antarctica as possible dragon country. Makes some sense, I suppose; they would need all that fire-breathing wrath to stay warm.

This isn’t the case with narcissists, however. They are dragons. Real live fire-breathing flying reptiles with very bad dispositions. They unpredictably swoop in, lay waste to everything in sight, and then swoop out again. And when one finds oneself in a so-called love relationship with a narcissist, well, there’s nothing there except trouble and heartbreak, baby. There’s no possibility of a real life version of  Shrek or a romantic version of How to Train Your Dragon. It’s cute when it’s on-screen, but there’s no connection to reality at all – they’re  cartoons, remember? – even if you’re out there hanging on by one fingernail and hoping that your narcissist is going  to suddenly start to love and respect you in return.

Unfortunately, most narcissists are also misogynists. My apologies to all the men out there. I don’t mean to be offensive, but it is a fact that 72% of narcissists are male, and of that number, 91% are also haters of women. (I also have to acknowledge that there is some shifting of these numbers depending on the source and there are also growing numbers of female narcissists, particularly among the under 30 age group – the numbers I’m using here are an average.) For the most part, the research says that these men were likely abused or neglected by their mothers or other significant female figures in their lives, but my experience tells me that there is at least one other issue going on as well and that this issue results in a form of misogyny that is quite layered.

Once we were married, it over time became evident to me that my former narcissist husband is a latent homosexual. (Please be aware that it is NOT my intent to suggest that narcissism is any more prevalent among the gay population than it is in the general population.) He may have acknowledged his homosexuality to himself at some point in his life, but even if he did, he then stuffed it so far away that to him, it became a nothing. Obviously, ignoring one’s sexual orientation is going to be a serious problem for even the most otherwise well-balanced individual, but coupled with the personality issues associated with narcissism and you have an explosive combination – an extremely unstable, volatile, love/hate relationship with half of the population that manifests itself in immature and adolescent acting out, temper tantrums, jealousy and envy.

In “Peekaboo, I see Me” I wrote about the fact that at some point early in their lives, most narcissists have had the ability to feel empathy turned off. The narcissist I was married to demonstrated a classic case of this. I have independent evidence to confirm that his mother eventually became a severe alcoholic who barely functioned and who may have committed suicide (I have been unable to establish the veracity of this part), that his father was distant and uninvolved, and that a younger bother died at his father’s workplace while playing unsupervised around dangerous machinery.

In the meantime, “Harry” says that he faced a social reaction from some of his peer group – they ostracized him at the insistence of their parents because of the instability of his home life. I say “some” of his peer group because it seems from much of what Harry has told me that he also had friends; maybe, however, he fixated on those who decided that they didn’t want to or couldn’t socialize with him, and maybe I will never know the truth of this portion of his life; the differing accounts are obvious.

Nevertheless, Harry’s youth was difficult and tragic and it’s easy to see why he turned off his ability to feel for others – there was just too much hurt, anger and pain; it was a lot safer to distance himself, to grow a protective armour that would deflect anything else that might damage him, and to re-invent himself and his background. While ignoring the fact that his father was at least indirectly responsible for his brother’s death, Harry re-invented him as a sort of Superman who had tried to cure all of his family’s woes while battling an evil, violent, alcoholic spouse.  For any independent, objective person, it’s clear that both parents had severe issues and were equally responsible for what happened to their sons. For Harry, however, it was black and white – Dad good, Mom bad. For the narcissist, nuance doesn’t really exist.

Into this mix comes the question of his sexual orientation. Not to say that it’s easy now, but back in the 70s it was a much more difficult proposition to deal with. Harry has tried to model himself on his version of his father as a manly hero-saint; homosexuality is completely verboten to him. Even now, with his father long since dead and with the much greater acceptance that we have today, he would find it impossible – Harry is completely invested in his invention and in any event, is incapable of self-examination. He has dedicated himself to being straight, just as he has dedicated himself to his hatred and fear of women.

However, there is an obvious inherent conflict in this position: to be “straight” he has to demonstrate a love of women, particularly to get what he really wants from them, which is to re-create the mother/son bond. Confused yet? It is confusing, and completely illogical, but that is the narcissist.

So, the narcissist goes into the charm offensive and wins the woman. He has specifically chosen this woman because she is a mark, a target and a trophy, but  also because she has demonstrated an ability to take care of him – she has money, resources, energy, a job.  He tries to enact that classic scenario of reproducing the same set of circumstances and hoping for a different outcome, namely that this relationship will somehow heal how he feels about his mother.

Was Oedipus a narcissist? Maybe.

In the meantime, he has to try to maintain the fiction that he’s a real partner who is sexually interested, when for him, the woman is a huge turn-off because of the very certainty that she’s a woman, to say nothing of the fact that he has visualized her as a sort of mother-figure, and this results in resentment and a personally directed resurfacing of his intense hatred for women. Make no wonder he can’t stand himself.

To get out of the bedroom and to dump responsibility at her door, he then starts to invent reasons why she is sexually undesirable, ranging all the way from inexperience and lack of technique to too much experience and too much technique. While she tries to think this over and figure out what went wrong and where the person she first knew has gone, he continues to dish out his hatred for women in calculated and strategic amounts that are designed to keep her off-balance; no sooner has she commenced re-building then the dragon swoops in with a fresh assault. The next thing she knows, there’s no chance to re-build, there’s only a quick moment to find cover, any cover that will provide temporary relief.

He has to empty himself of the hate he feels for her because she’s a woman, because of his envy and jealousy of her normal life, because he hates himself for hating her. He blows up, he rants and raves, he threatens, he spews vitriol. It’s one rage dump after another. And unless she gets him out of her life, that is what her life will be.

A Rat’s Tale

people breeding or how rats view us?
people breeding or how rats view us? (Photo credit: Willie Lunchmeat)

I had been troubled for some time with rats. Not those cuddly, disease-free, pink-eyed ones with the delicate whiskers and digits that you find in the pet store.

Oh no.

Mine were some sort of mutant beings, probably from the planet Xenon and likely an advance team come to reconnoitre our planet’s value as a source of fuel.

Let me tell you, dear reader, how it all started, which was with a garbage strike. Now, given the amount of legislated recycling that takes place around here, I wouldn’t have thought this possible, especially the speed with which it happened, but it did. However, the people thusly employed knew that it would, and had decided that the entire populace would exert tremendous pressure on city hall after only a few days of exposure to the most eye-watering, pungent odour the second you stepped out your front door and tried to negotiate your way down the public thoroughfares. The shimmer from the mounds of refuse lead to such mirages that the citizenry had to double-check with each other just to make sure that they were going in the right direction.

Drastic it was, and gag-inducing, but highly effective.

The mayor had to hire an armoured car just to go for groceries and in order to protect himself from the angry crowds encamped in front of his office. He eventually succumbed and dragged his weakened carcass in front of the press cameras and announced his defeat. He may have expended a lot of hot air getting into office, but it was the methane that finally did him in.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Did I mention that this occurred during the height of summer? There was a run on gas masks from the military surplus stores. Birds were keeling over, well, songbirds were, but not the crows and gulls, who in huge numbers and voice announced their immediate ownership of this nirvana, although that didn’t stop the infighting. And flies! Bluebottles that I’m sure escaped from Jurassic Park and should have been asking for clearance to land.

Trying to cook a steak at the old back yard barbecue meant suiting up in a hazmat outfit to avoid all manner of airborne assaults, especially from those aforementioned crows and gulls, but if the heat in there didn’t get you, the raccoons surely would. Brazen, and in great crowds and mobs, they engaged in hand-to-hand combat with any living thing that dared to enter their domain. The neighbours’ rottweiler entered a state of anxious fear and needed therapy just to go outside for a pee and a poo after the whole ordeal was over. Some people see raccoons as cute, with their little bandit faces and ringed tails. I do not. I have a lot of respect for raccoons. Bandits?? That’s like saying that George Clooney has nice features. They’re smarter than the average politician and with a little more training, could tell Tony Soprano exactly where to go and what to do with himself when he got there.

Just when I thought that the whole thing couldn’t get any worse, it did. As the old saying goes, it’s always darkest before the dawn. I had my feet up after a long day at work and an even longer day of battling to get home through the corvids, raccoons, flies, surly populace and olfactory assaults. I was done in. I was getting all mellow from a nice glass of wine when I heard it – a distinctive rustling sound emanating from the basement.

Now, having been raised on Hollywood movies, I decided that instead of immediately calling the constabulary and leaving the premises, I should grab a kitchen knife and decend slowly into the basement, with blade raised and lights off. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, there it was again – that rustling sound! Actually, it was very much like the crinkling sound a garbage bag makes when it’s being moved around. Hah! I clicked on the light, hoping to surprise the intruder, and was startled to see  the equivalent of a small beaver nonchalantly poking his head out of one of the garbage bags that I’d stored in the basement for safe-keeping. Rats!

Now, at this point I should probably explain why my garbage was in the basement. Well, it seemed like a good idea at the time – keep it inside in the cool basement instead of letting it percolate in the hot garage. Do my bit to keep down the raccoons, gulls, crows and flies, and all that. What I didn’t count on was the wily prowess of the rodent squad, which up until that moment hadn’t even crossed my mind.

Now what was I going to do? I stared at the rat and the rat stared back. Then he was joined by his buddy – his much larger buddy, and it dawned on me that these two were probably father and son. Another sound, like air leaking from a tire, and I realized that the daddy rat was hissing at me through his big yellow teeth. Hissing? Rats hiss? And then I thought, what do you know about rats other than that you might get the bubonic plague?

That was enough. In a state of panic and revulsion, I leapt at the bag and quickly turned it upsidedown so that pa and son were trapped inside and I ran that bag up the stairs and dumped it on the back lawn. Let them fight it out with the raccoons, I thought; they’re certainly big enough to stand up for themselves. Then I stuck the rest of the garbage in the garage, went to a hardware store and got a couple of the biggest humane traps that I could find – I think the guy behind the counter thought I was on crack when I tried, through my shuddering and quaking, to explain how big these rats were – and set them up in the basement in case some family members were left behind.

Then there was the clean-up – bleach was my best friend. Those rats had been down there for a while and I hadn’t realized it, and I’d had a nasty experience, but I was on the mend.

Like narcissists, wild rats belong outside with the crows and raccoons, not in your home. Too bad the narcissists are not as recognizable.

Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue, I’m a Narcissist and I Don’t See You

Narcissism
Narcissism (Photo credit: JasonLangheine)

I’ve already discussed how the egocentrism of narcissists leads them to construct lives where they target others who can provide them with attention, constant confirmation of their flattering self-image and who can also act as  garbage receptacles for all the negative thoughts they have about themselves. Last time, I looked at their insatiable need for re-invention, a by-product of the fact that they feel so empty and keep searching for something to fill themselves. Narcissists are essentially empty; they are in the never-ending process of divesting themselves of the negativity they heap upon themselves, but often, they can’t keep up, an over-flow situation arises, and they vomit that chaotic mass of self-hatred all over those closest to them. I refer to this outpouring or vomiting of self-hatred as the rage dump. There is no warning that this will occur, although if you are exposed enough to a narcissistic individual, you may begin to recognize some of their triggers.

Their triggers are things that may seem to have no logic attached to them, although there is usually some sort of connection to their own self-image. For instance, if the narcissist has or has had a weight problem, he or she can explode if encountering others who, in the opinion of the narcissist, has the same problem, although the individuals in question may not really have a problem at all. When the corresponding rage emerges, the narcissist does not care where he or she is, or who might hear. The narcissist I was married to had, years before I met him, overcome an extreme weight problem through gastric-bypass surgery. The self-hatred he carried around for having developed the problem in the first place was never in any way addressed through counselling, and he constantly flew into rages over what he considered to be the gluttonous weaknesses of others, including me. This rage could be anything from a series of rather loud, sarcastic comments delivered in restaurants and intended for total strangers to hear, all the way through to shouting, spitting, boiling condemnations delivered in the most vitriolic and foul language and in any venue, either public or private. It was, in fact, a public explosion of this type that was the catalyst for our final parting of the ways.

He also had a serious issue with people who wear sandals. He frequently trumpeted his opinion that no one wants to see dirty, filthy, calloused feet with thick yellowing toenails. I eventually realized that what he really despised were his own feet, and because he felt that he shouldn’t display them, no one else should display their feet, either. Remember, it’s not possible for someone else to be better than they are.

Their rage can manifest in other ways, as well. Any perceived challenges to their intelligence can spark angry tantrums that are off the chart. I once had the temerity to follow up with further information on some investment advice that my former husband wanted me to follow, and he ripped into me with the ferocity of a hurricane. This rage occurred over the phone, so I was accorded some measure of safety; however, his reaction and the words he used to describe my “behaviour”  were extreme. I had “betrayed” him. I had “abandoned” him. I was “disloyal and treacherous”. Before hanging up, he shouted, “F***k you! F***k you and the horse you rode in on! And f***k Carrie [the person who gave the financial information]! I was left shocked and reeling.

It’s not uncommon for narcissists to feel that they have had the “best” education, that no one has worked harder to succeed than they have, that no one has overcome more obstacles than they have, that because of their great intelligence, they were able to conquer the serious disadvantages of their upbringing that would have stymied a lesser person. They will often convince themselves that this is true and will spend a lot of energy on trying to convince others of it as well, even if there is much evidence to suggest that they are no smarter or have not had to overcome anything more than most of us. Much of this problem derives from the fact that they cannot accept themselves as ordinary, and as part of their constant re-invention, they are compelled to manufacture a past that makes them feel special, noticed and different.  They also believe that these qualities entitle them to weigh in with authority on any topic, whether they know what they are talking about or not. In the case of my former husband, I would have sooner taken financial advice from a chipmunk. At least they know about winter storage. The sad fact is that the complete totality of his knowledge about money is an adolescent ability to spend it, particularly on himself.

The unpredictable nature of these rage dumps can leave the recipients feeling dazed, exhausted, and vulnerable, but it also gets worse. Because most of us look for rational explanations for things, we will be left confused: there is no apparent logical reasoning for the behaviour that we have just witnessed unless we start to take it upon ourselves, a dangerous situation that together with the narcissist’s talent for projection, can lead to a vicious circle of mental abuse. So, what is the reason for these rages? The reason is that they are compensating. They want recognition and respect for being smart, intelligent, an authority, but they are insecure about it. If someone questions something they say, they fear that the questioner might be right, and therefore, the only way to re-establish a sense of superiority is to stomp on and intimidate the source of this discord. As a result of this reaction, the very things they desire – respect and recognition for their abilities – is completely lost to them and the loop begins again. The rage they feel at themselves must be eliminated, directed outward, and at the people who are the most likely to take it and the least likely to deserve it: those who are unfortunate enough to, for the time being, love them.

As Gertrude Stein Said, “There’s No There There”

Gertrude Stein at "Les Charwelles," ...
Gertrude Stein at “Les Charwelles,” June 12, 1934. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

The life of the narcissist is also defined by his or her ability live a chameleon-like existence of on-going change. They adopt whatever they find pleasing and claim it as their own, particularly if there is any kind of mileage or attention to be gained from it. They will exploit anything that they deem to be useful. If, for some reason, they suddenly find it helpful to be Buddhist, then they will “become” Buddhist. If they can absorb extra attention from it, they will make a show of their “religious beliefs.”

They are “special” in other ways, too, and because of this, are deserving of notice and admiration. They may be related to a royal family. They may have survived an airplane crash. They may have received an award for bravery. Their parents may have been (choose one)saints/alcoholics/impoverished/abusive/scorned/wealthy/inspirational … the list goes on. Whatever it is they say their parents were, you can depend on it that it’s unlikely to be true. It is, however, likely to be grandiose and dramatic and either the best or worst of its kind. Narcissists don’t ever do, according to them, anything small. They just choose descriptors in that moment to suit the audience they have so that they can accomplish their agenda. And the agenda is always the same: compensation for the emptiness they feel and a cover for the fear that they have of having that emptiness found out.

An extension of the construct that they live is the fact that they carry very little with them, either concretely or emotionally. They often have little or nothing at all in the way of family contacts. Because their family members know them and their history, they will certainly not be able to pass themselves off as Buddhist, will they? So it often occurs that narcissists will eliminate family contact, either because they are constantly inventing  new personas to go with the new people in their lives or their family members are of no further use to them. Sometimes family members themselves will cut off contact because they can no longer tolerate the narcissistic behaviours.  There might not be much in the way of friends, either. If there are, the contact will be decidedly infrequent and not really of the quality that most of us would describe as friendship.

Another symptom of their rootlessness is the fact that often, they don’t own much in the way of material possessions; any major assets are likely to be fully encumbered by debt. I know of one situation where the narcissist showed up at his significant other’s home with only a single cardboard box of possessions; he didn’t even own a suitcase. Because of the constant need for re-invention, they are frequently on the move and therefore can’t manage much in the way of possessions; it becomes easier for them to own as little as possible. At most, there will be a storage locker somewhere containing old, cheap, worn furniture that the narcissist has fixated on as being valuable and special because he has good taste and is never wrong. These items will not even have sentimental value, only the value that he has assigned to them because he chose them.

So, as Ms. Stein said, “There’s no there there.”  They have no sense of themselves. They do not do their own thinking. They are incapable of self-examination. They constantly take from others – beliefs, possessions, money, hope, faith, charity, whatever they need in the moment to exploit the person or people with whom they are currently interacting. They give absolutely nothing in return. They are parasites who are always searching for a new situation, and once there, will attempt to consume all available resources before either moving on or being forced to move on. They are a plague that the rest of us have to endure; it’s up to us to be vigilant so that we can minimize the damage as much as possible.

Peekaboo, I See Me

Portrait: 73/365 "N is for Narcissism"
Portrait: 73/365 “N is for Narcissism” (Photo credit: Twaize)

Last time in “I See Myself, Therefore I am” I discussed how the narcissist generates a sense of self through an often invented mirror image and also through unremitting attention-seeking. They believe themselves to be completely empty or at best shallow and although they are afraid that others might discover this about them, they also believe that everyone else is just like themselves. This metastasizes into one of the worst evils about narcissism: the notion that all others operate in the same way that they do. Although this sounds contradictory, given that they’re worried that others will learn about their emptiness, they cannot abide the fact that most people do have an interior being and are, to some degree or another, concerned about the impact they may have on others. Narcissists just don’t accept this.

This type of projection is poisonous and crazy-making. Because narcissists at some point in their lives were damaged (or perhaps were even born that way) and had their ability to feel empathy turned off,  they all come to the conclusion that everyone else has had the same thing happen and that no one is capable of feeling  for another. The narcissist believes that essentially, we are all walking around lying about our feelings for others; at best we are pretending. Even though they have an inkling that this might not be true, as evidenced by their fear of having their emptiness found out, they behave as if it is true. The result is this then: every relationship they enter into is nothing more than a battle ground where they fight to inflict damage before it can be inflicted on them, where everyone is an enemy to be controlled and defeated, and where no one is to be trusted unless he or she can be absolutely subdued and mastered. All must be viewed with suspicion, because remember, we’re all waiting to do the same to them.

You might be wondering, then, why with this level of projection going on, they might ever enter into a relationship in the first place. Don’t forget that they’re empty and need attention to feel that they actually exist; therefore, they must have someone to provide that for them, so then the search begins. Their method of choice for winning people over is what I call a charm offensive. They can charm the birds right out of the trees. They compliment excessively, especially in areas where you might feel a little weak, they do little things for you, they buy you thoughtful presents; they make you feel valued and appreciated. They will walk over burning coals, hike through deserts or scale glaciers for you. They are charismatic and winning. They will make you feel like you are the only person who matters to them because you are the only person who matters to them. You are a target, a mark, a trophy, and they have a lot invested in you. And once you start to believe them, then, well, then everything you thought you knew about yourself and the world starts to tilt, because then the projection starts.

Very slowly, they begin to point out the things that are wrong with you, and because you have decided to trust them and also because you relate to others with thoughtfulness and empathy, you seriously consider what they have to say even though these negatives may be completely foreign to you. It might start with a suggestion to change your hair colour, or alter the brand of perfume you use. These “suggestions” are initially subtle and insidious but they continue to grow, both in volume and degree of importance. The next thing you know, your best friend whom you have known for 20 years is a pathetic a**hole who makes your life completely miserable. You have no taste in clothes or furniture and completely lack any sense of style. Your new car is a cheap piece of crap. Your new home has all sorts of things wrong with it. You have never worked hard in your life and you chose your career in order to be paid as much as possible for doing as little as possible. Your neighbours are a bunch of yelping harpies. You’re a miserable, fat lazy whiner who does nothing except sleep. You’re a tight fisted cheap skate. You have absolutely no idea what hardships are and would fail if you ever had to face any of them. You achieve your happiness at the expense of everyone around you. You’re a sexual adolescent who is clueless about intimacy. You don’t appreciate me.  You refuse to share. You’re stupid. You’re cruel to me. You’re a vindictive liar. You have no idea how to love anyone except yourself. You’re worthless, useless and a complete waste of skin. It would solve a lot of problems if you didn’t exist.

Do you see the projection? This is what they think of themselves. They swim in a vast cistern of jealousy-inspired hatred – hatred for themselves and hatred for all those people out there who seem to be better than they are, so they set out to prove that no one is superior to them, and they tear apart anyone with whom they become involved. Apart from stealing whatever they can from you, that is their raison d’être. The upshot is that unless you extricate yourself from this downward spiral, you wind up in a completely isolated deathtrap of a relationship with only a dim awareness of the fact that once upon a time, you had a perfectly good life.

For part three of this very lengthy definition, I am going to quote Gertrude Stein, who famously said, “There’s no there there.” She wasn’t referring to narcissists at the time, but as a succinct description of what they are, or perhaps I should say what they aren’t, truer words were never spoken.