The stages of becoming malignant; moments of clarity

Posted on December 21, 2014 by luckyotter

I just received this comment under the currently spiking article (linked in the previous post).

Click to enlarge.

I’ve embellished my reply into an article because this was such a fascinating issue to me.

Becoming Malignant
Malignant narcissists who became that way later in life by making an evil choice (such as making a genuine deal with the devil, becoming involved in the dark arts, or committing a heinous crime against their will, such as in war, may not be entirely seared and the real self can occasionally shine through. But they can’t leave the darkness without an almost supernatural force of will. They may know they’re this way and may even hate it and suffer, but THEY CANNOT LEAVE THE DARKNESS once they’ve made that choice. It’s like they already died and went to hell (I’m not sure I believe in a literal place called Hell, but I think you know what point I’m making here).

The Infection.
Malignant narcissists are incredibly dangerous because they can infect you with their sickness. They can literally rip out your soul and replace it with emptiness and blackness. A formerly good person can also become MN themselves if they associate too long with an MN abuser. There are several stages to this process. It doesn’t happen immediately. It’s very insidious.

Here is the machinery of evil:

1. The Honeymoon: The MN love bombs the intended victim with charm, fake love, gifts, and kindness so they learn to trust them.
2. The MN will pretend to agree with everything the victim says and seem empathic. What’s really happening is the opposite. The victim already trusts the MN and has been partly brainwashed already, so whatever the MN says, the victim agrees with and think it was themselves who thought it
3. The MN changes and his games become cruel and anything but loving. The honeymoon is over. The blatant mindfuck begins.
4. Over time, the spirit of the abused breaks down. They begin to feel like they’re worthless and the insane and abnormal begins to seem normal.
5. The MN abuse becomes worse. They make it impossible for the victim to escape, using various means and separating them from friends and other loved ones, often through turning everyone they both know against the victim through the MN’s lies, gaslighting, and triangulation. The victim becomes isolated and thinks they might be going crazy and start to doubt their own reality. If the victim has figured out the MN has turned everyone into their flying monkeys and started a campaign against them and try to call out the MN, they will be told they are crazy or imagining things. The classic psychological horror movie “Gaslight” shows this process so well that the term “gaslighting” was named after it. At the same time the victim realizes they have become entirely dependent on the MN.
6. This is the make or break moment. The abuse escalates into abject, intolerable cruelty. The victim may begin to fight back (this is the point at which a person can still leave the relationship before their soul is destroyed). If they don’t fight back they will succumb even further and are doomed, because…
7. As a defense mechanism, the victim begins to identify with the MN. This is known as Stockholm Syndrome. It’s the only way they can cope with what their life has become and the pain they are undergoing at the hands of the MN. They begin to collude with the MN.
8. Once they collude with the MN (even if it’s to insure their survival or the survival of others like their children), the transformation is complete. The victim, newly turned MN, can never go back. As they age they will keep getting worse.
9. The MN who infected the victim at this point will probably leave and move on to his or her next victim. There is nothing more he can with the first victim.

I got to Stage 6. Thank God I didn’t get any further along than that. Once I began to identify with my abuser(s), it might have been too late…

I’m getting mega chills writing this. This is scary stuff. But it’s real.

Moments of Clarity
On the other side of the equation, the opposite could happen (the MN turning good), but it’s far less likely than the first scenario, which is all too common. If it does ever happen to an adult, it’s extremely rare.

Even the most malignant narcs have these bizarre moments of clarity. They don’t happen often. It’s kind of spooky because it’s like all of a sudden they have another personality, but it’s fleeting. It’s as if they wake up for a second and even their look changes to a different, more human one. It’s very, very weird. I’ve seen it myself. It’s a moment that could change them if they really wanted help. Usually it passes too quickly unless God steps in. A really good therapist might be able to get through if the narc presented themselves for therapy, which they sometimes do (when they’ve lost all their supply and have sunk into depression).
Still, we can’t delude ourselves into thinking they will get better. The vast majority will not. In fact they grow worse with age.

I’m reminded of a scene in “The Shining” (the book, not the movie), where Jack Torrance (the possessed father) comes out of his trance for a second or two and tells his son Danny, “RUN! Get away from me, I love you!” Then he goes back into his murderous rage. It was incredibly creepy.

Mindf*ckery

Posted on December 21, 2014 by luckyotter

I knew it would happen. I just didn’t think it would be this soon.

My daughter will be out of jail in 3 days and isn’t looking forward to moving back in with Paul with her MN father living there, but at the same time she struggles with feeling responsible for whether her father has a place to live or not.

She’s not.

He tells her she is.

He’s full of shit.

He cajoles, he manipulates, he lies. He threatens suicide.

I stopped falling for that suicide crap a year ago. He will never kill himself.

Paul called me and we talked for two hours. He told me everything that’s been going on.

The way Michael lies on the couch all day trolling political websites and sleeping, and stays up all night pacing the house. Like a damn vampire.

The way he puts the dirty dishes in the sink but never rinses them and never puts them in the dishwasher.

The way he’s using some of Molly’s old drug using friends to triangulate against Paul, messaging them on Facebook that he’s too controlling (when he’s the best thing that ever happened to her).

WHO DOES THAT?

He squanders his disability on lottery tickets and never has any money to contribute to household expenses.

He trashed my character and told Paul how crazy I am and what a horrible person I am because I finally had the guts to kick him out.

“That crazy bitch made me homeless,” he whined. It’s an endless refrain, on an infinite time loop.

He sneaks around and listens to Paul’s phone calls to Molly.

Paul is going through (on a lesser scale) what I went through. He knows. I will never need to worry again that I might be thought the crazy one.

Now he wants him gone. Out by January 1. Good.

It was all a game, an elaborate fortress built of smoke and mirrors and lies, to obscure and deflect the truth. Now it’s all come crashing down and Michael has lost all his narcissistic supply. Oh, boo hoo.

Paul is afraid Michael living at the house when Molly returns will destroy his relationship with my daughter. He’s right: he’ll attempt to create a wedge between them with his gaslighting and triangulating and lies. He’s already started by telling him lies about Molly when she’s not even there to defend herself. He does all this because stirring up drama and creating wedges between people is his sick idea of fun.

When he threw me out of the house when Molly was just 11, he told her I left of my own accord because I didn’t love her and her brother. I never knew this until years later. Molly held that against me for years and it messed up her head and she got addicted to drugs to escape and that’s part of the reason she’s in jail. She may be N herself. But that’s what he does. He’s a rapist who rapes people’s minds instead of their bodies. Even his own kids. Because he’s an evil excuse for a human being. An empty rusted out tin can with sharp edges lying on a toxic waste dump.

To Paul, I wanted to say “I told you so” but instead I told him I’d not wanted to get involved and just let the cards fall where they may–but always had a feeling this would happen. I’d hoped he’d have better luck dealing with Michael because they don’t have a long past behind them. They don’t have kids together. Maybe Michael would be different with him. Maybe he’d change! It wasn’t any of my business anyway if he lived with them or not.

Michael hasn’t changed. Of course he hasn’t. Narcissists never change. He’s the poster child for the Needy Malignant Narcissist. He cares about no one and nothing but himself, acts like the world owes him a living but without him giving anything in return. He likes to destroy relationships because he’s bored and miserable and evil and that’s his idea of fun.

No doubt when Michael finds out he has to leave he’ll either fly into a narcissistic rage or cry and whine and threaten suicide. Paul says he’ll give him his first month’s rent back so he can go find a place. Knowing him, he’ll spend it on cigarettes and lottery tickets instead and he’ll have to go back to the Salvation Army, and then try to tell me what a douchebag Paul is.

I might have to renew my restraining order in February–just to make sure he doesn’t try to come back here.

He’s alienated everyone. No one wants him around anymore. And that’s no one’s fault but his own. Of course, in Michael’s disordered mind, he’s blameless and it’s everyone else who’s at fault for his sorry condition.

I was thinking about my mental state a year ago compared to today, and it’s as if I was a completely different person. Barely a person at all. Living like I was on automatic pilot. Going through the motions of life but not living. Marking time until death. I didn’t care; I thought I was dead already.

Now I feel like I’ve grown younger instead of older. I’ve found God. Doors that seemed locked to me forever are starting to open. Things I’d thought I’d lost for years have been found. Things I can’t believe would ever happen are starting to happen.

All because I got rid of the narc.

Now I can go over and see Paul and Molly on Christmas Day and bake my lasagna without having to deal with that sick piece of human waste lurking around and making everyone miserable with his stupid mindfuckery.

If you still live with your narc, beg, borrow or steal the courage if you must, but GET RID OF THEM. Hold your ground. Get angry. Righteous anger is our weapon and is healthy. It can even save your life. Go No Contact. There is no other way. These are dangerous people set out to destroy you and everything good you have. Don’t let them turn you into an empty shell. Don’t let them turn you into one of THEM.

Are reality show participants all a bunch of narcissists?

Posted on December 20, 2014 by luckyotter

I recently saw a study that indicated that among all types of entertainers, reality show stars have the highest levels of narcissism (comedians were second, which surprised me).

Click on chart to enlarge.

Dr. Drew Pinsky, contributor of this study and a celebrity psychologist who has even hosted his own reality shows (“Celebrity Rehab” among others) had this to say about reality show contestants. It’s easy to see why the study is probably correct. Many if not most reality shows feature people who have no real talent or special ability, other than airing their dirty laundry and personal issues on national television, or just acting like jerks and getting rich and famous for it.

VH1, once a respectable music video alternative to MTV, has become Reality Show Central, and their reality shows tend to be the dumbest of them all, with the most most offensive and unpleasant “stars” you could ever imagine. The premises of these shows are also questionable, even if at times humorous. I remember a show called “Tool Academy,” where young men (and sometimes women) who acted like total tools were sent to be on the show by their wives and girlfriends. The show was run in the typical “Ten Little Indians” format of most game-type reality shows, with one person (who displayed the most “toolish” behavior) eliminated each week, until the winner–the guy whose behavior had improved the most–was announced as the winner.

Another VH1 show, “Flavor of Love,” featured the narcissistic rapper, Flavor Flav, an aging, unattractive, yet inexplicably desireable has-been as the “prize.” Some prize. Flavor Flav was insufferable, annoying, vain and conceited but every week a group of girls would engage in ugly catfights over his attentions, with one girl eliminated each week (for reasons that were completely arbitrary and based on Flav’s personal opinion formed on “alone time” with that girl.)

One of the contestants from “Flavor of Love” became a reality star in her own right–a highly (and probably malignantly) narcissistic girl named Tiffany “New York” Pollard. “New York” possessed every tool in the narcissist’s bag of tricks–gaslighting, triangulating, tantrum throwing, blame shifting, abusive behavior, lack of empathy, and whiny, wheedling self-centeredness–and she got most of Flav’s attention (although she did not win). She was also hilarious, and that was probably some of her appeal. Not surprisingly, New York got her own reality show, predictably called “I Love New York,” in which men would compete for HER as the prize.

Tiffany “New York” Pollard

A similar show in the same vein (and made by the same producers) was a short lived reality show called “Megan Wants a Millionaire” in which a girl named Megan, a materialistic and shallow nobody, got to choose her dream rich guy, who would become the winner after everyone else was eliminated. The show made news when one of its contestants–an arrogant, sleazy and malignantly narcissistic piece of human scum named Ryan Jenkins (who was one of Megan’s favorites and probably would have won) brutally murdered and then dismembered his girlfriend, Jasmine Fiore, in a hotel in Canada, and then stuffed her body into a suitcase. Immediately following the murder, the show was cancelled, so there never was a winner. Megan may have been wound up with Jenkins killing HER if he didn’t win. I remember getting uncomfortable feelings watching Jenkins–and wondered what Megan saw in him. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why, but Jenkins gave me a bad case of the heebie jeebies.

There are many shows of this ilk, and they’re everywhere. MTV started the reality show trend back in the 1990s with “The Real World,” which showed a group of “normal” (but hand picked through an audition process) twentysomethings living together in a house. The most narcissistic housemate would almost always become the most famous, even if they had a lot of haters. Now MTV’s offerings are more likely to be game-show based or documentary-like, such as the hit “Teen Mom.” While the show has its merits (showing how these young girls cope with raising a child without a husband or decent job), it also rewards questionable behavior, such as getting pregnant before one is ready to handle the responsibilities of a child. I have actually heard of girls who deliberately get pregnant just to be able to audition to be on the show. The girls on “Teen Mom” become instant stars, and because the girls are getting paid handsomely to be on the show, the actual “reality” of this reality show (like most others) is questionable. Most real teen moms struggle with poverty or near-poverty, but these girls only pretend to be impoverished for the sake of the show.

There are other non-contest shows like TLC’s “19 Kids and Counting,” featuring the supersized Duggars; the defunct and controversial “Jon and Kate Plus 8”; and of course, the enormously popular “Keeping Up with the Kardashians,” which has made megastars of its namesakes. Jon and Kate, now divorced, obviously both have NPD, especially Kate, who used her many children as a ticket to stardom. Kate has parlayed the success of “Jon and Kate” into a career as a reality star and has also appeared on the show “Dancing With the Stars,” among other shows. I feel sorry for her kids, with such a fame-whoring, self centered, attention seeking excuse for a mother.

I haven’t watched The Kardashians, so I don’t know if the sisters are narcissists, but I fail to see how a show about a family with daughters whose only claim to fame is the fact their father (Bruce Jenner) used to be a famous track and field athlete and is now a motivational speaker, ever got so popular. Yet people want to be just like Kim, Khloe and Kourtney, and their very average countenances regularly grace almost every entertainment and women’s magazine.

Then there is Oxygen’s “Bad Girls Club,” which is exactly what its name promises. Although the premise of the show (like “Tool Academy”) is the improvement of the girls’ selfish, combative, narcissistic behaviors, with the winner showing the most improved personality and etiquette, people don’t really watch the show for the bad-to-good transformation (which is most likely fake and scripted anyway)–they watch it to see the catfights and the girls’ bad behavior–it’s nothing more than digital rubbernecking. Of course, to get on the show, a girl has to act like a complete bitch, so in effect, the bad behavior is glorified.

Michelle Duggar of the TLC hit “19 Kids and Counting” gives me mega N vibes. While putting on this mask of being an angelic, meek, deferent, soft spoken, ultra religious Mother of the Year, I highly suspect this act is fake as hell and Michelle is actually a media savvy, manipulative operator behind the scenes, much like Kate Gosselin. Having babies seems to give Michelle a narcissistic rush, but once each child becomes a toddler, she pans them off to an older sibling (always a girl) who is to be their “buddy” and basically raise that child herself, so Michelle can focus on having the next baby. Evidently once she had her 19th child she finally became too old to birth any more children. Her last pregnancy ended in miscarriage and she has not become pregnant since.

Another of TLC’s offerings (which I think has been cancelled) was a show called “Toddlers and Tiaras,” a documentary-style behind the scenes look at child beauty queens and their parents, who shamelessly exploit their young children and push them into these pageants. Almost without exception, the parents are narcissists who try to turn their child into a showpiece, whether the child wants to participate or not. The children’s own wishes and interests are not respected and in some cases, the parents’ (usually the mother’s) behavior borders on abuse. When all the makeup, fake tans, fake teeth, and creepy sexualization of the child is finally done, the kid looks more like a doll than a human being, and it’s chilling to see. Only a narcissist would understand the appeal of making a child look like that.

Believe it or not, this is a child, not a doll.

Talent contest shows seem to have more legitimacy since some of the contestants actually have a talent, such as singing, cooking or dancing (and usually, the most talented are the ones that make it farthest and go on to win). Still, I think narcissism is a motivator for many of the participants, and NPD is highly represented among both the contestants and the judges.

Mean, abusive, tantrum throwing judges like Gordon Ramsey of “Hell’s Kitchen” is a good example of a highly narcissistic judge who is probably malignant as well. The contestants’ terror of Ramsey’s narcissistic rages is one of the show’s attractions. Simon Cowell, a savvy business tycoon who made his fortune with his empire of singing reality shows like “American Idol.” “America’s Got Talent,” and “The X-Factor,” is probably still most famous for his mean, sarcastic, and abusive commentary to the fledgling singers on the once popular show, “American Idol.” People would tune in just to see what he would say to some poor hapless auditoner. While Cowell gives generously to charity, that doesn’t mean he’s not a narcissist.

Simon Cowell

I read a horrifying story once about Cowell and I don’t doubt it’s probably true (unfortunately I can’t locate the link right now). Some years back, Cowell developed an attraction to a contestant named Nikki McKibbin. At first Cowell was nice to her (he was always nice to contestants he liked), but one day he told her (not on the show itself) he thought her eyes were so pretty he wanted to remove them and keep them in a jar by his bed. Ms. McKibbin was understandably so spooked she decided to stop speaking to Cowell and started treated him coldly offset. Cowell, suffering narcissistic injury, got back at her by henceforth being extremely critical of every one of her performances, where before he had been nothing but complimentary. Nikki must have been popular in spite of Cowell’s campaign against her, because she went all the way to 3rd place.

This year’s “American Idol” winner, a rock singer named Caleb Johnson, is from my town (Asheville, NC) and while there is no argument he’s extremely talented (and an unusual winner for being a hard rocker on a show that features pop singers), he displayed enough narcissistic traits during his appearance on the show it would not surprise me if he has NPD–but of course that could have been due to the scripting too (I don’t think these reality shows are really based much on actual reality).

Caleb Johnson

There was an incident where during an interview which occurred offset, Caleb called his fans “retarded.” This could have just been the ignorant gaffe of a young guy who didn’t quite know how to handle overnight fame and having to deal with the media, so I’m not going to judge his behavior too harshly. I have no proof he has NPD.

In summary, narcissism does seem to be highly represented among reality show participants (and is definitely glorified on these shows), especially the shows that reward and showcase bad, immoral, or abusive behavior.

Are narcissists ever abuse victims?

Posted on December 19, 2014 by luckyotter

Black Wedge of Love / rawcandor.com

Here I’m not going to talk about the popular theory that most narcissists were probably neglected or abused as children. In this article, I’m focusing on the question of whether someone who is already a narcissist can become a victim of narcissistic abuse.

Yes, they can–and more often than you might think.

Of course, not all narcissists are abuse victims, and the more malignant they are, the more likely they are to cause suffering rather than suffer themselves. Psychopaths and malignant narcissists wield Svengali-like power over their subjects and are often found in the highest echelons of business, politics, religious organizations, and other positions of great power and influence. They do not allow themselves to be in a position of subservience to someone else, and take great pride in the fact most people fear them. In fact, they would much rather be feared than liked. The smartest ones are cunning enough to be invulnerable to a total loss of narcissistic supply, which would send them crashing into a deep depression (and opens a window to healing, as I’ve discussed in previous posts). They know how to get others to trust them, which is part of their charm and one of the ways they climb to the top and stay there.

But other narcissists (not “benign” narcissists, because they do have a conscience and even some empathy)–those who still have NPD but are not as high on the spectrum as a malignant psychopath, can and do become victims to “stronger” narcissists.

An unholy alliance.
These relationships actually work in their twisted, sick kind of way, with the weaker narcissist falling under the thrall of the stronger, malignant narcissist. Because they are both still narcissists and the weaker one basically identifies with their abuser (known as Stockholm Syndrome, which is also a defense mechanism seen in victimized people with PTSD), they form a symbiotic relationship, with the weaker person willingly taking on a masochistic role and the stronger one the sadistic role. Their sexual relationship may indeed include elements of S&M, but the sadomasochistic relationship isn’t limited to just sex.

The stronger narcissist will treat the weaker one badly and abusively, but because the weaker partner identifies with their abuser, they actually “enjoy” the abuse they get. It validates them and gives them the narcissistic supply they need (and way deep inside, maybe they feel like they deserve punishment).

Unlike normal people, a narcissist prefers negative attention over no attention, and their abuser is seen as their savior–the one person in the world who can give them the attention they so crave. M. Scott Peck, in his book “People of the Lie,” described such a relationship. Harley was a weak man in thrall to his evil, mean wife Sarah, who constantly berated and belittled him and ordered him around, while Harley just whined pitifully about how badly Sarah treated him but seemed to do nothing about it or have any real desire to stop her abuse. He had no intention of leaving her. He told Dr. Peck he “needed” Sarah. Of course he did–Sarah was his sole source of narcissistic supply (because she had made sure he was cut off from anyone else). Dr. Peck speculated that Harley, although complaining incessantly about his wife’s abuse, actually seemed to want it, and he wondered if he might have been a little “evil” himself, which was what might have attracted him to someone like Sarah in the first place.

I see this same situation in my father, who has always been codependent on MN women, and allows these women to make all his decisions for him. He has always been weaker and more codependent than the domineering, controlling women he married.

Needy narcissists.
A friend of mine, a survivor of narcissistic abuse who also has a blog, tells the story of an aunt of hers, living in abject poverty, who was scapegoated and belittled by every other family member, most of them highly malignant narcissists. She was tolerated at family events but outside of that, no one would have anything to do with her. You feel sorry for this impoverished, lonely, maltreated aunt–until you keep reading and find out that she is a malignant narcissist herself–of the “needy” variety.

Most people think of narcissists as cagey, cunning, selfish sociopaths who get everything they want by ruthlessly stomping all over others to reach the pinnacles of financial and professional success, even if that involves a life of crime. But there are many narcissists who are not successful, and in fact are dirt poor. These are what I call “needy narcissists”–people who mooch off of others, using others’ goodwill and generosity without ever giving anything back in return. They whine to anyone who will listen about how their sorry circumstances are everyone’s fault but their own. They demand pity and constant attention. They act entitled. They cry and try to elicit your guilt. They might steal from you. They’ll start a smear campaign against you if you don’t give in to their demands. Sometimes they find ways to get government assistance–such as disability–by faking or exaggerating a disorder so they don’t have to take responsibility for themselves.

They are financial and emotional vampires, feeding off others’ altruism until their providers are sucked dry emotionally, spiritually, mentally and sometimes financially. My ex-husband falls into this category. These narcissists are only less dangerous because they lack power and money, but make no mistake: they are just as dangerous on a personal level as materially “successful” narcissists, and they play all the same evil mindgames to get their way. They take pride in how pathetic they are rather than in what a perfect specimen of beauty, intelligence, success, or charm they are. They still think they’re entitled to be treated as if they’re gods.

“Covert” and “inverted” narcissism isn’t narcissism at all.
There is also something I’ve read about called “covert narcissism” or “inverted narcissism,” which actually has been used to describe people with low self esteem, avoidant traits, hypervigilance, and high sensitivity. Which means that according to that definition, I am a narcissist.

I don’t buy it though, because people with these traits are usually very empathic and if anything, their conscience is too well developed for their own good. They not only worry they won’t be liked, they worry that they may have hurt someone or have done something wrong. They struggle with guilt and shame. They may self-sabotage, but they never set out to hurt other people, and when they do they feel terrible. Real narcissists may be hypersensitive (about themselves) and paranoid, but they never worry about hurting others; at best they just don’t care.

Of course an “inverted” or “covert” narcissist is likely to be abused, because they fit all the traits of someone likely to be bullied and victimized. They are us!

The weak narcissist in thrall to an MN is not an “inverted” narcissist–they are true blue narcissists who just lack the cunning, intelligence, charm or Svengali-like traits their abuser possesses. Or they’re just not as evil as the MN. Within the relationship, they are just abuse victims, but outside of it, they treat others as badly as any other narcissist. Just because they’re abuse victims doesn’t mean they’re nice people. (It doesn’t mean they don’t deserve help either). Obviously, the best thing for a narcissist in an abusive relationship to do would be to go No Contact, but due to their craving of (negative) narcissistic supply, they are not likely to ever leave the relationship.

Can a malignant narcissist become an abuse victim?
Other than in childhood (before they became narcissists), I would say no. Because two high-spectrum, completely malignant narcissists are likely to hate each other. One MN won’t give up their power to the other and sees another MN as a huge threat.

Think of two predatory animals like wildcats, encountering each other in a forest. Both are alpha males of their own group so neither is a weak animal. Would these two cats become allies? No. They will fix their gaze at each other, never taking their eyes away, and slowly start to circle around each other, sizing up the other animal. At some point, one of the cats will launch a surprise attack, or one will flee before that happens.

In a similar manner, two predatory humans in the same room will be very cautious around each other, sizing each other up, but will almost always intensely dislike each other. They may fight, or they may never speak to each other, but they will not become friends. They are of no use to each other whatsoever. A malignant narcissist will always choose a weaker victim he can use and manipulate, and sometimes that victim will be another narcissist who identifies with their abuser but is no match for them.

Comment from a narcissist who wants help

Posted on December 16, 2014 by luckyotter

I found this comment under this post today from a commenter called KWWL who says he/she has NPD. I think it speaks for itself.

KWWL says:
December 15, 2014 at 11:33 pm (Edit)
This is really a great article. And gives me hope for myself. See, I am a narcissist. For years, I was in denial that it was a disease, I almost thought it was good trait to have, to brag about. I never realized how much damage this illness has done to me as a person or to those I love or have loved. As the article foretells, I hit rock bottom this year and for months sat around blaming everyone else for everything–the end to a great relationship, the loss of a great job, not continuing my education. Typical narcissistic behavior. But for some reason, I came to a conclusion that in order for my life to get better and stay better, I had to look back on life without hurt, without bias or anger or anything else other than calm emotion. When I did, I saw the problem–the common denominator–me. Even still, I wasn’t sure why I did some of the things I did. So I read, researched analyzed, analyzed some more. I did a lot of soul searching. Being a narcissist (and having a few other mental issues) has led me to behave in ways that have been severely destructive in life. To me and to others. Most narcissists are in denial they even have an illness but like many other narcissists who are no longer in denial that they have an illness, I found that I used my illness as a “license to kill”. As I said earlier, it was almost something I was “proud of” except for narcissists, myself included, we don’t have pride; we have validations that boost the low self esteem and ego of our true self. When I realized some of the damage I have caused, I was no longer “proud” of it, I was ashamed of it. I knew then I had to seek the root of it and in my case, the narcissism is a mask for a low self esteem that I developed in childhood–a torturous hell at the hands of a tyrant for a father. These are issues I know I have to work on as well. I can’t just say, “I’m a strong person and I’m over it and it doesn’t affect me anymore” as clearly it does for one and for two, I’m not a strong person–I’m weak. I need a lot of work on myself and it’s something I have to stick to; I can’t allow myself to ever get to a point where I believe “I’m cured” as there is no cure for this. There is only treatment and bettering. It’s a long road ahead but I’m in it for the long haul. I ask no pity from anyone though. As an adult, it’s my responsibility to seek help.

My reply:

KWWL–thank you so much for having the courage to speak up here. I don’t know how old you are but you sound quite young but yet your writing is very mature and insightful. much like Sam Vaknin’s (who I am sure you know about). Regardless of your age, it’s incredible to have so much insight if you have NPD. I think insight could be a key to overcoming this disorder. You already have suffered narcissistic crisis and it does sound like you are still in that “vulnerable” depressed, anxious state that follows it. I will say prayers for you (I do not know what your spiritual beliefs are) that God finds a way to get rid of your “demons” and show you your true self.

You also seem to have a lot of shame about having this, which is one step away from having a conscience. You COULD just be bluffing here and this could all be BS (after all, you are a narcissist) , but I have a strong feeling you are being absolutely honest here. Please keep posting–it’s always great to read well written, civil posts from people from”the other side.” 😉
To understand something is to know it, and to know it is to not be stupid about it (I made up that quote lol)

I am also taking the liberty to repost this comment in my next post. Sure, this might feed your narcissistic supply so maybe I shouldn’t do that, but I think it’s interesting enough and well written and stands out because it’s coming from the “enemy” so to speak.

We were the lucky ones.

Posted on December 15, 2014 by luckyotter

“Narcissus and Echo” by David Revoy

Those of us who are ACONs and didn’t become narcs ourselves really are the lucky ones.

Narcissism, as I’ve written so many times, is a family disorder and is passed on through generations, both through the genes (as a predisposition, not as a “bad seed,” which I don’t believe in) and through early childhood abuse and neglect.

I’ve read so many of Sam Vaknin’s writings from his personal journal now. He is an ACON just like us but was never able to escape from developing the disorder himself, in spite of his insight and high intellectual ability. The abuse he suffered at his mother’s hands was horrific. With loving parents he may not have developed NPD.

I am also pretty sure my MN mother was sexually abused. I wrote about her childhood in this post. She never actually said she was, but she’s never talked much about her past. Most of what I know I pieced together from bits of information others told me. But even though sexual abuse was never mentioned, I strongly suspect she was and it would explain a LOT.

My MN ex was abused by his mother too. I haven’t written a lot about it, but someday soon I will. His mother was a malignant narcissist who mas a master manipulator and gaslighter, and physically abusive too.

I thought, “that could have been me.” It could have been any of us.

There are narcissists much worse than Sam, who have no insight and no desire to help others avoid people like themselves. Sam and his wife have chosen not to have children because of the devastating effects NPD could have on them–either as its victims or inheritors of the disorder. The fact he doesn’t want to burden a potential child with that proves to me he must have some semblance of a conscience, even if he thinks he doesn’t. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t have NPD but he probably isn’t that malignant compared to some truly evil people out there. I wouldn’t call him a benign narcissist either though–his behavior in “I Psychopath” was pretty intolerable, for the most part, even if he made me laugh sometimes. Sometimes I feel sorry for his wife, who seems like a meek, codependent type and scored very high in empathy on the tests she had to take in that film. I hope he treats her well. But because he’s a narcissist, he probably doesn’t, even if he tries to.

I have complained endlessly about my disorders and the effects of narcissistic abuse on me at the hands of my family and my ex (as well as previous boyfriends before him–I’ve ALWAYS been attracted to narcissistic men, which is why I won’t enter into another romantic relationship ever again). But you know what? For all my social awkwardness, PTSD, BPD, avoidant personality, low self esteem, debilitating anxiety and hypervigilance, and intermittent major depressions, I wouldn’t trade any of that in exchange for Narcissistic Personality Disorder. I could have EASILY become a narc. So could any of you reading this who suffered similar abuse, because you may have the gene for it or it runs in your bloodline, like it does in my FOO.

Maybe we suffer more than someone with NPD (although someone like Sam definitely suffers in his own way), but we have hope. We can get better. We can heal ourselves either through traditional therapy or writing about it. We can separate ourselves from the malignants and the psychopaths who hurt us (narcs can never escape from themselves and make no mistake–they are dangerous to themselves). Our healing may take a long time, it may not be easy, but we can get well. We can become whole, happy people. Because we have the willingness.

Narcissists do not. Their true self is so damaged and atrophied it can’t be accessed and the masks have no desire to get better, because the are just masks. The more malignant the narcissist, the less hope there is for them. The are the cursed ones. They are trapped in their sickness. The really unfair thing is, in most cases this was something done to them. That doesn’t excuse the way they act, but they never had a choice.

We were the lucky ones. We have hope because we never lost our true selves. Think about that the next time you feel like you’re worthless because of the mindgames your narc plays with you.

My mother, the exhibitionist.

Posted on December 13, 2014 by luckyotter

Painting of woman (title unknown) by Jeremy Lipking.

I have written before about how common it is for narcissists (especially somatic narcissists) to obsess over their (and their children’s) bodily functions. I even described my malignantly narcissistic mother’s obsession with my childhood BM’s and the Enema from Hell that was a constant threat if I failed to produce.

But there’s more to the obsession than this. For my mother, all bodily functions became performance art. Modesty was a foreign concept to her.

My mother was always an extremely beautiful woman with a sexy but slender body (which she spent hours every day keeping that way through constant exercise, yoga, and living on only salads, chicken and fish). She is still in good shape but has lost her facial beauty due to age and way too many facelifts which makes her appear to be wearing a mask–to my way of thinking, a sad and final physical manifestation of the psychological mask she has worn her entire life. She has become a walking, talking mask.

In her younger years she was an exhibitionist. She regularly walked around the house naked, or dressed in a flimsy diaphanous short negligee, with no panties on underneath. In fact, she never dressed in actual clothing unless she had to go out. My mother’s perfect naked body was almost completely visible under that sheer garment, especially when the light hit it a certain way. She cared not one whit that a child was present.

In the 1970s, during the womens’ movement, the popular book “Our Bodies, Ourselves” was her Bible. It was kept on the living room table for everyone to see, along with other coffee table books like “America the Beautiful.”

I remember being fascinated by that book, with its graphic descriptions of the most intimate female bodily functions, including sexual intercourse and masturbation. With equal parts of awe and a weird, squirmy, embarrassed feeling, I stared at the many black and white photographs of women breastfeeding, or giving birth, or lying on the OBGYN’s table with their legs in stirrups, or doing yoga naked, or dancing in groups with other naked women, pregnant or not.

I remember when my mother was married, I always could tell when she was having sex with my father, because she would groan loudly enough to make the whole house shake. Her moans and groans scared me at first, but after awhile I got used to it. I could tell when they were finished too, because she would announce loudly that she needed to douche to avoid getting pregnant.

After the divorce, when I was 14, things got even worse. We had moved to a small one bedroom apartment, and she took the living room (at least she had the human decency to let me have the bedroom). As a highly attractive and socially gregarious woman who always needed a source of male narcissistic supply, she had a running string of boyfriends. I was left alone overnight often–which I actually didn’t mind at all–because if she returned home with one of her dates, it meant they slept together on the pull out sofa,and THAT meant if I wanted to leave my room for any reason, I had to walk through the living room because there was no hallway.

Walking through the living room with them in there was so embarrassing, I would skulk through quickly with my eyes averted, trying not to see or be seen, but it never worked. She always wound up calling me in for some reason, sitting up from under the covers, her shapely naked breasts exposed, forcing me to look at her in bed with some man I did not know or want to know. I knew on some level that was her real reason for calling me in. She WANTED me to see.

She also always left the door open when she went to the bathroom. She didn’t care if I saw her. In fact, she would call me in while she was sitting on the toilet to ask me a question or tell me something. She wanted me to see but I have no idea why.

The worst thing was when she was having her period. I remember her describing loudly to anyone who would listen (or was forced to hear) the way the clotted menstrual blood would gush out and stream down her thighs when she got out of bed after it pooling inside her all night. She announced it as if she was announcing she just got a promotion at work or won some award.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a prude. I can appreciate the beauty of the female human body and even its mysterious, intimate, lifegiving functions, but these are private and not something a normal person shares publicly as if they’re discussing the news or the weather. Only a somatic narcissist (like my mother) does that. Because to them, it’s performance art and their body is an exhibit to be worshipped and admired, even during its uglier moments. Modesty is never on the radar.

Malignant narcissism and the supernatural: a connection?

Posted on December 11, 2014 by luckyotter

WARNING: This is a dark and highly disturbing topic for many people. If discussions about evil entities, the demonic or the supernatural bothers you, I suggest not reading this blog post to avoid being triggered.

I’ve discussed the subject of evil and narcissism before, but today a commenter called Truthteller brought up this subject again in the comments section of another blog post (I can’t find his or her blog if they even have one).

A good question.
Truthteller was wondering if disorders like malignant narcissism and/or multiple personality disorder (MPD) have a possible supernatural explanation, such as an evil or alien entity taking up residence inside a person. This commenter suggested that severe abuse during childhood, which can cause both MPD (a splintering of the original personality into two or more subpersonalities) and NPD (dissociative as well because the true self is shut off or obscured by an elaborate system of false personalities or masks) can make the child vulnerable to an outside entity taking up residence within them.

Now before you write me off as a BSC, superstitious, tinfoil hat-wearing, Bible thumping nutcase, let me explain that while I do consider myself a Christian, I am not particularly religious (though I am spiritual) nor have I ever been that superstitious and I’m pretty skeptical about supernatural things. In fact, I think most “supernatural” events probably have a scientific explanation that hasn’t been discovered yet.

For example, imagine a serf living in the year 1100, during the Middle Ages. Now imagine a time traveler from 2014 appears and shows the medieval serf his Smartphone. (Okay, I know time travel isn’t possible right now, if it ever is, but just suspend your disbelief here for a minute).

What would the serf think? Would they understand anything about the technology that went into making that Smartphone? Of course not. They would probably run away screaming that the thing was demonic, a supernatural device from Hell that contained evil spirits. Because that would be the only way they could explain the glowing moving images and words scrolling on a screen. If we see a ghost today, it could actually be a ghost, or it could be a hologram of some sort, a cross-section of a 4 or more-dimensional being, or simply an aggregation of energy concentrated in one place. We really don’t know.

That being said, I also don’t dispute the possibility that there may be evil spirits or even an entity called Satan. No one has proven these entities exist, but no one’s disproven them either. There is at least one respected psychiatrist in the field of NPD and psychopathy (Dr. M. Scott Peck) who believes that certain individuals without empathy or a conscience, who take pleasure in hurting others (today we call them malignant narcissists or psychopaths) are in fact evil.

I absolutely believe there are evil people in the world, but is their evil due to Satan or other malignant entities overtaking their minds at some point (possibly due to a choice they made which I’ll explain later in this post), or is their “evil” simply a manifestation of a badly wired brain dominated by the predatory, reptilian, lower brain instead of the mammalian human brain that has the capacity for love and empathy?

A snake doesn’t care about its fellow snakes or even its offspring. It feels no love. It attacks with no remorse and has no feelings of guilt if its prey dies from its bite. It abandons its young after they’re born to fend for themselves. This is normal behavior for a snake, but a snake isn’t evil because it’s just a reptile, a less evolved creature than we are. If a human acts like a snake though, then that person is evil because we’re supposed to have a brain that has the capacity to feel empathy and love.

MPD vs. NPD.
In the case of the person with MPD, I don’t believe malignant entities have anything to do with their disorder, for several reasons. Although people with MPD appear to be “possessed” by more than one personality, they are really just facets of the same personality. A person with MPD was almost without exception severely abused during early childhood, and to protect the “waking self” from further pain, their original personality shattered into fragments, or subpersonalities of the original.

A good therapist who specializes in MPD can help the patient bring the “personalities” back together, usually by working primarily with the dominant personality, which is usually cooperative and the most mentally healthy of them all. It is also the only one of the personalities that is aware of all the others. One by one, the dominant personality (or sometimes using hypnosis) will “bring out” the other personalities for the therapist to work with. Eventually, through the cooperation of all the personalities, the person can become whole again. While there may be unpleasant or immature personalities, they are not necessarily evil. Another reason I don’t think MPD has anything to do with outside entities is because the person with the disorder wants to get well. They usually seek therapy on their own due to blackouts and other odd things such as doing something and not remembering doing it.

Malignant narcissism and psychopathy is a different story. Although also most likely caused by severe abuse combined with a genetic predisposition, the person is nearly always unaware of their original, true self which has been obscured so deeply by their elaborate layers of masks that it may as well not even exist. It’s very difficult if not impossible to access the true self in a malignant narcissist. It exists but the false self is a lie, and lies are inherently evil. This is why they are the “People of the Lie.”

The genesis of psychopathy.
Why are some people evil and what made them that way? No one really knows. I don’t think in real life there are any “bad seeds” and those we know of are usually fictional characters. Some people probably do possess a gene for the malignant form of narcissism or psychopathy, but even so, with loving parenting that teaches the child right from wrong at an early age, I think most children can still learn to be good people and those lessons will override the genetic predisposition. Perhaps they’ll still be narcissists but of the benign variety instead.

Severely abusing or neglecting a child who already possesses the gene will likely cause that child to become a psychopath or malignant narcissist. At this point in time, there is no known cure once the disorder has become ingrained in the personality. If any treatment is to work, it must be done in early childhood, when the personality is still forming.

Possession and Exorcism.
I don’t think people with these disorders are actually possessed by demons, but if demons or malignant entities exist, these people may be highly influenced by them or walk on the side of darkness. That would explain my MN ex’s fascination with the occult, Satanic symbolism, and his liking for dark music like death metal. Being open to darkness, malignant narcissists and psychopaths are vulnerable to malignant entities taking up residence inside them, and for someone who is already a psychopath, the possession would be total and even exorcism would not work and would probably kill them.

Non-evil people could be possessed too, usually by dabbling in the occult or the like, but for them, the possession is “imperfect,” according to M. Scott Peck. Because the entity isn’t aligned perfectly with the person’s soul, there is still good in the person and when an exorcism is performed, the good can overcome the evil entity (with God’s help). An exorcism performed on an imperfectly possessed, non-evil individual is more likely to be successful than it would be on a psychopath whose possession, if it exists at all, would be total.

M. Scott Peck also believes that exorcism does not have to be done by a priest or minister. It can be successfully performed by a psychiatrist or psychologist who is well trained in the ritual, and at the same time has a strong faith in God.

How a good person can become evil.
I mentioned earlier the concept of choice. I think there are some people who are predisposed genetically to psychopathy and aren’t necessarily evil, but there comes a turning point during which they choose darkness over light. This is usually a decision they make, a “deal with the devil” so to speak. This is the point at which they can cross the line over into evil and once they do so, there is no turning back.

I’ve used this example before, but I’ll use it again because it’s such a good one. In “People of the Lie,” Peck talks about a man who was in all respects a good man, a family man who loved his wife and children. But the man had a terrible problem: he suffered from severe panic attacks when crossing a certain bridge on his way home from work every day. The panic attacks were so debilitating that the man, even though he didn’t believe in the devil, made a deal with the devil anyway. He told the devil that if he could get over the bridge without suffering a panic attack, then he would allow the devil to allow something to happen to his beloved son.

Nothing happened to the man’s son, but the man felt terribly guilty about making such a deal, even though he still didn’t believe the devil existed, so he confessed his sin to Dr. Peck. It was explained to the man that he did the right thing; if he hadn’t felt remorse over making such a deal, even though he didn’t believe in the devil, that he would have crossed the line over into evil.

The same thing happens during war when soldiers are forced to kill innocent people and commit other acts of atrocity that go against their morals. Those who aren’t predisposed to psychopathy and are forced to undertake such evil actions, suffer from PTSD and can even experience a psychotic break. However, there are veterans who, already predisposed to psychopathy, became evil after committing such acts during wartime. They return from war seeming to have lost any empathy or ability to love they once had. Here too, a line was crossed, even if it was not really their own choice. Once that line is crossed the person can never return to goodness because they have, in effect, “sold their soul,” and possibly been possessed by malignant outside entities who make sure they keep walking on the side of darkness.

It’s in their eyes.
I have noticed something odd in the eyes of malignant narcissists. The first time I saw it was when I was about five or six, when my mother flew into a narcissistic rage over something or other, probably my acting “spooky” (withdrawn and lost in my Aspie world) which seemed to enrage her more than anything else. When I looked into her face, I noticed with horror that her eyes were solid black like the eyes of aliens or demons, and her sneer was so full of pure hate that I had nightmares for weeks. I remember having dreams about this demon-mother, and waking up screaming. She’d rush into the room and it was like waking up from one nightmare into another, an inescapable loop of nightmares I couldn’t awaken from, because all I could see even when awake were those solid black eyes and hateful sneer. Even when she was smiling or hugging me. This lasted for several months, but I knew then what she was, and I also knew that she knew I knew. And that made her hate me even more.

I saw the same black eyes once when my MN ex was in one of his narcissistic drunken rages.
Also, I have seen actual people who have very opaque, cold and hard eyes without a hint of humanity or warmth in them. Here is a photo of a person I do not know but her face is one of the most frightening I’ve ever seen and it’s because of those eyes. I have no doubt this woman is as evil as she looks. I sure wouldn’t want to meet her in person!

My father (a low spectrum but weak and benign narcissist who is not insane or deluded) told me about the time he spoke to Michael (who I was still married to at the time) on the phone and noticed his voice sounded different. The way he explained it, it was gutteral and inhuman like a demon’s voice. I never heard this voice myself, but on a visceral, gut level I believed my father was telling me the truth. I was spooked out of my mind.

After the divorce my father sent me a copy of “People of the Lie.” He told me he never believed in the devil or evil people until he read this book and realized it described my ex to a tee. Funny that he didn’t recognize my mother in that book, because she’s even more malignant than my ex. But he’s an enabler when it comes to MN women, and always seems to be in thrall to them. But that book changed my life because after reading it I finally recognized both my ex and my mother for what they actually were, and that was the catalyst that led to No Contact.

A person I know in the narcissistic abuse community says that the soul of a malignant narcissist or psychopath has been seared. I think that’s a very good description of what has happened to them. Can a seared soul be saved? I have no clue…

In conclusion, let me remind you that I’m not a tinfoil hat wearing conspiracy theorist or a Bible-thumping fundamentalist nutcase. I have no proof that any of this is valid (unless you count the opaque black eyes I’ve saw in both my mother and ex). But because a supernatural component hasn’t been disproven either, there’s a possibility that much more is involved in psychopathic behavior and malignant narcissism than mere mental illness or a brain dysfunction. Some of this even makes sense on a gut instinct level. In any case, Truthteller raised an interesting issue and I wanted to explore it further even if you think it’s nuttier than a Payday bar.

Please share your thoughts.

The day Sam Vaknin knew he was a narcissist

Posted on December 10, 2014 by luckyotter

I’m going to go ahead and confess part of the big secret that I alluded to in an earlier post. I’m writing a book about Sam. I can’t say too much else about it right now because the book’s focus hasn’t completely gelled in my mind yet. Right now I intend for it to be a biography, focusing on NPD from the inside–that is, what the disorder FEELS like. Sam is a controversial figure, and has enemies within the narcissistic abuse community and even more so among professionals who specialize in NPD (mainly because in their minds he lacks the proper qualifications), but there are also a great many people he has helped–even if helping wasn’t his intention, which it most likely wasn’t if he really is the malignant narcissist he says he is.

I took on this project because I need to come to my own conclusions without being influenced by others, either positive or negative. I do feel like Sam’s been more maligned that he deserves over the brouhaha over his “paper mill” degree, among other things. He’s an interesting character, and to my way of thinking, deserves to have a book written about him. I realize it will probably be a small market, but that’s okay–his story needs to be told. I also realize this will most likely be a feast of narcissistic supply for Sam, but I can live with that. Of course, I’m not going to sugar coat anything–but narcissists even consider negative attention to be satisfactory supply. In fact, some even prefer it. I think my book will be balanced, and there are good reasons to defend him from his haters but there are many things I don’t know about him yet either. If he’s really that malignant, I could wind up hating him myself when I’m done with this project. Or maybe not. Whatever happens, I know it will be very educational and mind-expanding and I feel that one way or another, writing this book will change me in some profound (and good) ways.

So anyway…Sam gave me the go ahead for this project after I emailed him wanting to do it. I’m trying to figure out how to go about getting an interview with him (I would have to go to Macedonia), but for the time being, I emailed a woman who did interview him who has some tapes and who may be able to share those with me. I’m waiting for a reply. Sam also sent me a long list of links to his writings, most which I have never seen before but which are publicly available here. These are his personal journals, poetry and short stories. I have a lot of reading to do!

Sam’s disordered mind fascinates me because he has two qualities in spades that both fly in the face of the typical narcissist (and he insists he is a malignant narcissist; of that I still have my doubts but that’s another thing I need to find out on my own): he is completely and brutally honest, and he has incredible insight into his disorder.

I’ve rambled on long enough about why I want to write this book. In reading Sam’s journal entries, I came across this one that left me gutted, breathless and nearly crying. It’s hard to wrap my mind around how a narcissist–a machine-like being with the inability to feel–can write about themselves with so much raw and searing emotion. There’s something else going on there. He’s a wicked good writer, but I believe with the certainty that the sun will rise tomorrow that there’s not one shred of fiction in this journal entry. I can smell bullshit from a mile away by now, and there’s no bullshit here. For the record, Sam’s poetry is just as gut-wrenching as his prose.

It’s about the day he became aware he was a narcissist. Until that day he had no insight into his disorder; he gained all his insight after the incidents leading up to that day. In some ways, the way he describes it, NPD seems much like a dissociative disorder, like MPD (multiple personality disorder). I have written before about how taking away a narcissist’s supply would send them into a “narcissistic crisis” of severe depression, forcing them to confront their own emptiness, which in turn results in emotional catharsis; this is exactly how it happened here for Sam.

Unfortunately, he got to that point, but was either unable or unwilling to seek further treatment to attempt to rewire his brain to have empathy or a conscience. A cure may not be possible. Maybe you can’t retrain the adult brain to have a conscience the way it was done for a child like Beth Thomas; I just don’t know. That’s one more thing I need to find out more about. I sure have my work cut out for me.

How I “Became” a Narcissist

I remember the day I died. Almost did. We were in a tour of Jerusalem. Our guide was the Deputy Chief Warden. We wore our Sunday best suits – stained dark blue, abrasive jeans shirts tucked in tattered trousers. I could think of nothing but Nomi. She left me two months after my incarceration. She said that my brain did not excite her as it used to. We were sitting on what passed as a grassy knoll in prison and she was marble cold and firm. This is why, during the trip to Jerusalem, I planned to grab the Warden’s gun and kill myself.

Death has an asphyxiating, all-pervasive presence and I could hardly breathe. It passed and I knew that I had to find out real quick what was wrong with me – or else.

How I obtained access to psychology books and to Internet from the inside of one of Israel’s more notorious jails, is a story unto itself. In this film noire, this search of my dark self, I had very little to go on, no clues and no Della Street by my side. I had to let go – yet I never did and did not know how.

I forced myself to remember, threatened by the immanent presence of the Grim Reaper. I fluctuated between shattering flashbacks and despair. I wrote cathartic short fiction. I published it. I remember holding myself, white knuckles clasping an aluminum sink, about to throw up as I am flooded with images of violence between my parents, images that I repressed to oblivion. I cried a lot, uncontrollably, convulsively, gazing through tearful veils at the monochrome screen.

The exact moment I found a description of the Narcissistic Personality Disorder is etched in my mind. I felt engulfed in word-amber, encapsulated and frozen. It was suddenly very quiet and very still. I met myself. I saw the enemy and it was I.

The article was long winded and full of references to scholars I never heard of before: Kernberg, Kohut, Klein. It was a foreign language that resounded, like a forgotten childhood memory. It was I to the last repellent details, described in uncanny accuracy: grandiose fantasies of brilliance and perfection, sense of entitlement without commensurate achievements, rage, exploitation of others, lack of empathy.

I had to learn more. I knew I had the answer. All I had to do was find the right questions.

That day was miraculous. Many strange and wonderful things happened. I saw people – I SAW them. And I had a glimmer of understanding regarding my self – this disturbed, sad, neglected, insecure and ludicrous things that passed for me.

It was the first important realization – there were two of us. I was not alone inside my body.

One was an extrovert, facile, gregarious, attention-consuming, adulation-dependent, charming, ruthless and manic-depressive being. The other was schizoid, shy, dependent, phobic, suspicious, pessimistic, dysphoric and helpless creature – a kid, really.

I began to observe these two alternating. The first (whom I called Ninko Leumas – an anagram of the Hebrew spelling of my name) would invariably appear to interact with people. It didn’t feel like putting a mask on or like I had another personality. It was just like I am MORE me. It was a caricature of the TRUE me, of Shmuel.

Shmuel hated people. He felt inferior, physically repulsive and socially incompetent. Ninko also hated people. He held them in contempt. THEY were inferior to his superior qualities and skills. He needed their admiration but he resented this fact and he accepted their offerings condescendingly.

As I pieced my fragmented and immature self together I began to see that Shmuel and Ninko were flip sides of the SAME coin. Ninko seemed to be trying to compensate Shmuel, to protect him, to isolate him from hurt and to exact revenge whenever he failed. At this stage I was not sure who was manipulating who and I did not have the most rudimentary acquaintance with this vastly rich continent I discovered inside me.

But that was only the beginning.

Narcissists and cleanliness

Posted on December 6, 2014 by luckyotter

I read an interesting post about Joan Crawford over at Five Hundred Pound Peep’s blog. Crawford was definitely a histrionic malignant narcissist even though most sources say she had BPD (another Cluster B disorder that can mimic and is easily confused with the histrionic form of narcissism). The issue of Crawford’s obsession with cleanliness and order was raised.

There seem to be two kinds of narcissists: those, like my ex, who are complete slobs who refuse to lift a finger around the house and expect everyone else to pick up their mess for them; and those, like my MN mother (and Crawford), who are obsessed with cleanliness and order.

I’m going to talk about the second type.

My mother’s house was like a museum–it was all for show. Even magazines on the coffee table were forbidden because it was “clutter.” Family photos were consigned to bedrooms only because she felt they looked “tacky” in public rooms. She vacuumed, scrubbed, polished and dusted every day, in addition to hiring a weekly housekeeper to keep things spruced up. She invaded boundaries too–every day she came into my room (without knocking of course), and would start straightening up and criticizing my teenage sloppiness. She’d go into my closet and rearrange my clothes, making it hard for me to find what I was looking for (because I had everything in an order that made sense to me). When cooking, she’d wash dishes while she cooked, so there were no dishes inthe sink after dinner (actually, I picked up this habit from her and do it myself).

My mother loved beige, white and eggshell. Everything in the house was in those boring colors, with no bright spots of color to liven things up. I read somewhere once that beige is the devil’s color, not black. I think that person was onto something. I hate beige. It’s the most boring color on the planet. Is it even a color at all?

The glass tables in the living room with their chrome legs and edges were spotless and free of any clutter: what was the point of having tables at all if you weren’t going to put anything on them? The television was tucked inside a cabinet because a visible TV in the living room was gauche and low class and offended my mother’s upper class pretensions.

Even our Christmas tree (after my parents divorced) would be decorated in white lights only, with red and silver balls and bows–no other colors or shapes allowed. She always hated the colored lights, tinsel, and varied ornaments my father bought for our tree when they were still married. Me? I happen to love lots of colored lights. Tacky or not, they seem much more homey and Christmassy to me than the all-white lights you see in offices and banks. Another thing she did after their divorce was refuse to hang any ornaments I had made at school, because again, they were too tacky. My father, though certainly far from perfect, always took pride in my childish little creations, and proudly hung them from our tree, while my mother held her nose in distaste.

When company came over, she became an obsessive basketcase, zooming through the house with the vacuum and duster, and woe to you if you didn’t match her level of obsession and jump in and help out.

But of course, it was all for show, intended to impress. Narcissistic cleanliness is another way they can control everyone around them. I also think it’s an unconscious attempt to hide the “dirtiness” inside them. That’s why they’re so obsessed with it and rage whenever they see dirt or disorder.

I’ve also noticed how many of them (especially women, but some men too) are obsessed with bodily functions. I’ll warn you right now we’re getting into the ick factor here, but I’ll try to spare you too much detail.

I’m acquainted with a narcissistic woman who told me she douches every day. Not just after intercourse or after her period, but every freaking day. I mentioned to her how unhealthy that is and how it can rob her vagina of healthy bacteria that prevents infection, but predictably, she looked at me like I was crazy and said I didn’t know what I was talking about.

I know other narcissists (both men and women) who are obsessed with keeping their bowels clean. They are big fans of enemas, cleansing drinks, diuretics, fasting, and laxatives. They obsess over these things and even talk about their rituals in public, with no sign of embarrassment. If you know someone who goes in for colonic irrigation sessions on a regular basis, and then talks about it to everyone as if they were discussing the weather, it’s a good bet they’re a narcissist. I had a narcissist boss once who made his colon cleansing sessions a regular topic of conversation and would describe the process in the most intricate, intimate detail, even in front of customers. He didn’t care who heard and seemed to want everyone to know about it. The ick factor was off the charts with that one. It made me want to throw up.

They’re also obsessed with their children’s bowel functions. This is a little embarrassing but I’ll talk about it anyway because it’s so typical of the type of abuse (and it is a form of abuse) some children of narcs are forced to put up with.

When I was a child, my mother obsessed over whether I had a daily BM. If I skipped a day, out came the big rust-red rubber enema bag with its snakelike black hose. It was an adult sized contraption and not meant for children, but she’d fill that unholy thing up all the way with soapy water and make me lie down on the bathroom floor on a towel while she shoved that thing into me.

Of course it was extremely painful and my small body wasn’t equipped to hold all that water. If I cried or had an accident, she’d get mad and shove that medieval instrument of torture up me even more and hold my butt cheeks together with her cold hands, her long sharp nails digging into my tender buttocks like thorns from Hell.

It was much worse than the yardstick or any other punishment ever inflicted on me. I developed terrible constipation due to my terror of that thing, but of course that just made the enemas even more necessary and frequent. When it wasn’t in use, that evil device hung on the back of the bathroom door, facing the toilet, like a constant threat of what would happen if I didn’t produce.

You see, I wasn’t a real person, but merely an extension of my mother’s mask of narcissistic perfection, her little baby doll she could do whatever she wanted to with, her mini-me. Like an infant, she couldn’t seem to tell where she ended and I began. She obsessed over my hair, my clothes, my weight. She dressed us in mother/daughter matching outfits. In the morning before school she made me sit at her dresser while she took a hard bristled brush to my fine hair that tended to tangle and form knots. If she couldn’t undo a tangle, she’d angrily yank it out, making me scream in pain while my scalp felt like it was on fire.

Mother-daughter outfits like these were the rage in the ’60s, but were tailor-made (pun intended) for mothers like mine who wanted to make their daughters into their own image.

When I was five, she decided she wanted my fine, straight hair to be curly. So she gave me a home permanent and while rinsing my hair under the kitchen faucet with a glass milk bottle, the bottle accidentally slipped from her soapy hands and broke. A shard of glass buried itself into my forehead, and I had to get stitches. She didn’t try to perm my hair again after that but always complained about how flat it was and insisted on keeping it short.

I never got to choose my own clothes until my teens. Until I started going to Catholic school and had to wear a uniform, she’d lay out the clothing she had chosen for me to wear the night before. Most of the time it was some frilly frock I hated. But if I complained, I was immediately silenced. I wasn’t allowed to be myself, have opinions, or an identity of my own. All she cared about was the image I presented to make her look better in her own mind.

As a teenager, I rebelled by wearing the sloppiest, grungiest clothes I could find, refusing to have my hair cut and styled (even though I really don’t have the type of hair that looks best when it’s too long because it’s so thin), and even gaining weight on purpose just to spite her. I wore a lot of black even though it wouldn’t be fashionable for another few years (I probably would have been a Goth kid had I been a few years younger) because my mother hated black. Part of this was normal teenage rebellion (and in the ’70’s, dressing in unisex, sloppy clothes such as workshirts hanging over beat up jeans was the fashion) but for me it was also a way to say “fuck you” to my mother’s obsession with image at the expense of my growth as an individual.

Obsessive housekeeping and obsession with their own and their children’s bodily functions is another way narcissists can exert control and dominance, as well as a desperate and sad unconscious attempt to hide or try to “clean out” their own spiritual filthiness.