Targets and Victims

Posted on November 15, 2014 by luckyotter

I found another blog today written by a survivor of a sick family of psychopaths and sociopaths (I’ve added the site to my list of resources under the “Info and Support” tab in the green bar in the header. I know I’ve written about this before, but this is one of the best lists of the traits of potential targets and victims of psychopaths I have seen yet. I have just about every single one of these traits, unfortunately. From an early age, I was trained to be a doormat. I learned that lesson too well.

BEFORE: TRAITS of a Potential TARGET

Below are the traits most commonly attributed to a sociopath’s target. Every person is inherently different, and that includes each target and the traits that are most pronounced in the individual. An individual would definitely not need any of these traits to be preyed upon.

This is not an attempt to diagnose anyone.

Shyness
Difficulty communicating
A lack of self confidence
Wanting to please
A belief that if you love enough the person will change
A belief that if you love enough the relationship will succeed
Difficulty establishing and maintaining boundaries
Not being able to say no
Being easily influenced by others
Wanting to be rescued from your life situation
Wanting to rescue others from their distress
Being over nurturing particularly when not asked
Feelings of shame and self doubt
Low self-esteem
A lack of memories about childhood or periods of adulthood
A lack of motivation from within and being motivated by others

AFTER: SYMPTOMS of a Relentlessly Abused VICTIM

This is a very accurate list of symptoms experienced by someone who has had their psyche brutally victimized by a sociopath. With that said, this list is not all-inclusive, nor is it intended to be part of any diagnostic function, whatsoever. These symptoms can also be triggered by many other conditions or events.

The source of this data is from ongoing research, but the majority of the data is derived and confirmed from personal experience … the key word being “majority” There are some symptoms listed here that I have not experienced at all, though they have been mentioned enough for me to accept them as potentially common.

If you, or someone you know, has experienced even a few of these symptoms, seek professional help. Keep in mind, though, that not all “help” is equal. If the professional you choose does not seem to relate to your needs as you would expect or desire, keep looking.

Emotional paralysis
PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder)
Suicidal thoughts or actions (indirect homicide)
Loss of interest in life
Loss of energy
Insomnia
Anxiety
Depression or Severe Depression
Numbing of feelings
Disinterest in having a relationship
Panic attacks
Irritability
Increased anxiety from being alone
Increased anxiety from being in crowds
Mood swings
Source: sociopathicstyle.com [confirmed by personal experience (50+ years)]

How my mother became a narcissist.

Posted on November 7, 2014 by luckyotter

I’ve said a lot of negative things about my mother, but I don’t hate her. Today I was thinking about how she got to be the way she is. While most narcissistic psychopaths are probably genetically predisposed to this condition and are missing the part of the brain that causes them to have empathy and compassion for others (actually it’s just not functioning properly), in most cases there are also psychological factors. Many psychopaths and narcissists were abused or neglected children, whose own parents failed to mirror them adequately as young children. So as unpleasant as they may be, their condition is not their fault. It was done to them.

I’ve already described my mother as a vain, self-centered, image conscious woman who almost always put her own needs ahead of those of her children and husbands, and chose me (as the youngest) to be her scapegoat. At times I was also her golden child, especially prior to my teen years when I started to rebel, and she loved to make me in her own image, dressing me up like I was a little doll. She expected me to act like one too, and flew into a rage if I ever had an opinion of my own or dared to challenge her.

The story I’m going to tell is gleaned from the scant bits and pieces I heard over the years, most of it described by people other than my mother. Like most narcissists, my mother is stunningly lacking in introspection. She almost never talked about her past or her childhood, and the few times she did, it was negative. Most of her anger seemed to be directed toward her mother, who she spoke of with contempt the few times she did mention her.

Ginny was a beautiful child with big blue eyes and light red hair. Somewhere in my mother’s home there’s a photo of her at about age two, and she is dressed in a pink and white dress with a Peter Pan collar, her bright hair is done in a 1930s bob, and she’s sitting in an oversized chair holding a large teddy bear on her lap. On her feet are brown high top shoes, and her little feet are sticking straight out toward the camera. Ginny’s expression is solemn, almost sad. In fact, she looks close to tears. I will probably never see that photo again, as I am not in contact with my mother and she’s in her 80s and probably won’t be here too much longer, even though she’s in good health for her age and still looks younger than her years. I wonder if at the time that photo was taken, Ginny’s narcissism was already ingrained, or if she could have still become a normal, loving woman had her circumstances been different. The sadness in her face tells me she was hurting. It’s the most vulnerable I’ve ever seen my mother.

Ginny was the fourth and youngest child born to a naval academy officer and second generation Irishwoman. The family was middle class, lived in a nice house in a safe neighborhood outside Annapolis, Maryland, and raised all their children as Roman Catholics. Because Ginny’s father was in the military, when the Depression hit, the family didn’t suffer too much financial hardship and his job remained secure. But Theodore (her father) was a heavy drinker, probably an alcoholic, and started drinking almost the moment he got home from work. Anna Marie (Ginny’s mother) suffered from melancholia (what we now know as major depression) and after Ginny was born, took to her bed and stayed there for most of her childhood and teen years. She may have been suffering from postpartum depression, but in those days, no one knew about such a thing. Anna Marie started to neglect her duties as a housewife and mother, saying she was “too sick” and had to lie down.

Ginny was the most attractive of the four children, and the only one with blue eyes. She was obviously Theodore’s favorite child, and he constantly told her how beautiful and special she was. Anna Marie began to resent all the attention he showered on his favorite child, and became even more depressed (she may have been a narcissist herself). Theodore was a faithful husband (from all accounts) but his wife’s demands were wearing him down and he began to drink even more. Sometimes he came home from work already drunk and often he would pass out after eating dinner, so that no one was running the household but the children.

By this time Ginny was about six, and her older sisters (who were in their teens) and brother (who was about 11) weren’t interested in keeping the house clean or taking care of their exhausted, drunk father and depressed, ill mother. Ginny hated dirt and disorder, and took it upon herself to keep the house clean and cook the family meals (Anna Marie was a bad cook). Her sisters were always out at parties or on dates and of course her brother was a boy so he wasn’t interested in keeping up the home or taking care of the family. Soon Ginny was the sole caretaker and became her father’s young surrogate wife. (I don’t know whether or not she was sexually abused, but it would not surprise me and I assume she probably was). Anna Marie developed a hatred for Ginny, who seemed to be everything she was not and also got all her husband’s attention. Theodore’s adoration of Ginny increased, and he began to depend on her for everything, including confiding his problems in his marriage. Ginny seemed sympathetic, but was already plotting to leave the home.

At age 15, Ginny had become a drop dead gorgeous young woman. She left her family and dropped out of high school to marry a young man from the naval academy who was studying to be a Methodist minister. She took a job modeling for the local newspaper to help makes ends meet. By 18 she was pregnant and gave birth to her first daughter, and a few years later she had her second child, also a girl. But Ginny was tired of the church dinners and the drudgery of family life. She was bored and longed for excitement that her two young daughters and minister husband couldn’t provide. So when her daughters were just 7 and 2, she left them to marry my father. It was the late 1950s, and a woman leaving her husband and children just wasn’t done, but she did it without a second thought.

Although her older daughter had abandonment issues and hated Ginny for years for leaving, today my mother lives in her home and my sister’s become Ginny’s most loyal flying monkey. I barely ever knew my sister, but I was told several years ago that I was not welcome in her home because my sister didn’t want me there. Either my mother didn’t want me there and blamed it on my sister, or my sister is a sheep who believed all Ginny’s lies about me. Ironically, my sisters were much better off than if she hadn’t left them because the woman who married her jilted husband and raised them was a kind, nurturing woman, almost the polar opposite of my mother.

Another irony is that even though my mother, as a malignant narcissist, is completely lacking in compassion, both her father and my father were taken in by Ginny’s fake “sympathy.” Ginny listened to her dad talk about his marital problems when she was a teenager and offered him kind words and a ready ear; and recently my son told me how my father fell in love with Ginny (my father never told me this story but he told him): my father’s 3 year old son from his first marriage had been hit by a train and died, and my mother offered him a shoulder to cry on and a sympathetic ear and soon he was madly in love with her.

I clearly remember when my grandmother suffered a major stroke at age 57 when I was only 7, my mother’s comments after seeing her in the hospital. All she could talk about was how helpless and disgusting she was (the stroke had left her paralyzed from the waist down and incontinent) and how she couldn’t wait to get out of there. Even at that young age, I was horrified by my mother’s callous remarks about her own mother.

Even though I don’t use my real name or their real names, sometimes I think it’s just a matter of time until she discovers this blog. I had to go inactive on Facebook because of her extended family all finding me there.

Things I’ve learned lately

Posted on November 7, 2014 by luckyotter

In writing this blog I’ve learned a lot about myself and my FOO and how it has affected my life and relationships. In reading back over this blog and thinking about narcissism so much, I’m shifting my views on some things. Not all of these discoveries are easy to swallow and I’ve been in denial about a few of them.

— My mother is by far the most malignant narcissist in my family with the most profound effect on me and others who have had the misfortune to be in a close relationship with her. She has managed to recruit almost all of her extended family and even some on my father’s side to do her bidding as her flying monkeys. I am her prime target, although not the only one. She is a powerful psychopath without a soul. If she could get away with murder, I think she would.

— My ex, asshat and parasitic loser though he may be, is a drug addict and alcoholic and though definitely a narcissist, is less malignant than I had thought (or at least not as bad as my mother). I’m not making excuses for him because there is no reason to, but being at a safe distance now, I can see him as a sort of hybrid of a narcissist and a mentally ill victim of one (is this possible?) This realization is based on some of his behaviors that do not indicate narcissism but rather, plain old mental illness and addiction (although narcissists are likely to become drug addicts and alcoholics). One thing that definitely doesn’t fit the narc profile is the fact he has always sought therapy (although his motives for doing so might have to do with narcissism). His diagnosis of PTSD and Bipolar aren’t entirely off base. His mother was a malignant narcissist though, and he learned a lot of those behaviors from her. I’ll write a longer post about him at a later time.

— My father is also on the narcissist spectrum, and he has always been in thrall to malignant narcissist women. At times he has been their victim, but mostly he enables and makes excuses for what they do. I feel sorry for him.

— I was set up to fail.

— I am pretty sure my daughter is on the narcissist spectrum but she is also an intractable drug addict. It really hurts to realize her “conscience” may be fake and she really doesn’t care about anyone but herself, because I love her so much, but I can’t hide from what some of her behaviors point to. Drug addiction can cause a person to act in narcissistic ways, too, especially if they’re desperate for a fix. I’ll write more about this another time. It’s pretty hard to deal with.

— I wasn’t a very good mother. I put my own needs first a lot of the time, and always treated my son like the golden child, and still do. Of course, he is making better choices than my daughter, so I don’t have to worry about him as much. Ten years ago I was much less self aware and more self-involved than I am now. I think that was because I was under my ex’s thrall (even though he’s not as high on the spectrum as I had thought).

— I have a lot of narcissistic tendencies, but I used to be worse. Envy is something I have struggled with my entire life. But even though I may envy people who seem to have more life blessings and sometimes (secretly) feel bitter about feeling so deprived in comparison, it’s never occurred to me to sabotage them or try to take what they have from them. I’m not proud of having this character flaw. Narcissists don’t feel shame about being envious, and think nothing of trying to take away what others have. I also deal with feelings of guilt and shame a lot in general so that reassures me I’m not on the spectrum.

— I find it hard to be 100% candid about my feelings on this blog. I’ve noticed I write in an intellectual way and seem to avoid emoting on this blog too much. Some of my posts sound like I’m writing about someone else. Distancing myself and intellectualizing everything is how I’ve managed to remain fairly sane. This isn’t really a good thing though because it blocks me from digging deeper to the source of my pain and in so doing, keeps me trapped in a state of numbness and ineffectuality. Multiple Personality Disorder and other dissociative disorders are just more extreme ways of distancing from “I.” This probably indicates PTSD. I’ve become too good at hiding my sensitivity behind a mask of detachment. When I was younger, everyone said I was too sensitive, now no one does. Even my mother has gone from calling me “too sensitive” to calling me much worse (and I always hear about this second hand from her flying monkeys and other family members she has “confided” in). In real life, I don’t trust anyone and am painfully shy. Hardly anyone knows anything about me. I hardly ever cry and smiling doesn’t come naturally either. I blend into the scenery because I’m so quiet and people assume I’m just not very friendly. Some people think I am stupid because I never have much to say and because I’m too afraid to take a side in any argument and also because I get so lost in my head I don’t always seem to be aware of what’s going on. I long to reach out, but my Aspergers, PTSD and lack of trust combine to make me almost mute in social situations.

–I took the Myers-Briggs test online on two websites and came out as INFJ on one, INTJ on another. Both of these seem to fit. But I think inside I’m definitely leaning more to (F)eeling but use (T)hinking as a mask.

It’s all about image: the skewed values of narcissistic families

Posted on November 2, 2014 by luckyotter

Last night I read a blog post by another survivor of narcissistic parents , and was astounded by how similar her parents’ values were to mine.

She writes that her father criticized her for being too idealistic. Now that would normally be a compliment, but because her family valued nothing but money, class and image, it was meant to be an insult. My father (who I don’t think is a narcissist, but has always been a huge narcissist apologist and enabler), said exactly the same thing to me.

We live in a narcissistic and materialistic society, that increasingly values traits that are narcissistic and exalt the individual over the community. In fact, studies have shown that a high percentage of CEOs, top executives, Wall Street tycoons, and others of the “One Percent” have narcissistic personality disorder. It’s a disorder that is very adaptive in modern society and whose traits are rewarded with money and material goods. Especially since the 1980s, with its “Greed is Good” ethos, we reward those who act in their own self interest over those who act in the interests of the community and want to help the less fortunate. There’s even a meme that’s become especially popular with narcissistic Baby Boomers: “I’m spending my children’s inheritance,” as though this is something to be proud of.

My family bought right into this ethos. Image was everything to my parents, especially my mother. My parents looked down on our blue-collar neighbors and relatives, and my mother in particular constantly made jokes at their expense and talked about how much better we were because we had nicer things and my father had a better (meaning white collar) job in the city. Appearance mattered, and our clothes had to come from the best department stores, never Sears. We had to live in the most exclusive neighborhoods. To not have a college degree was considered a mortal sin, and even then, it was far better to be successful in the cold-hearted business world than to be a successful teacher, social worker or a nurse. Such things were regarded as jobs for those who couldn’t do anything else, and of course they required a level of idealism that my parents just couldn’t relate to. When my parents split up when I was 14, my extremely image-conscious mother took up public relations as a career, which is all about image. She had so many face-lifts that today her face looks like a mask.

Whenever my parents, my mother in particular, complimented someone else, it was always on their visible, tangible qualities–things like their appearance, home decor, financial status, and taste in clothes. Table manners were of utmost importance, but being a good person was not. I can’t remember a time when my mother ever complimented anyone for qualities such as sweetness, generosity, friendliness and altruism. I do remember her putting down others for having these qualities, calling them “insipid” or accusing them of having no backbone.

My values never matched those of my immediate family, and when I became poor as an adult (because I was never given the tools and self esteem that would have led me to make better choices) I was shunned and rejected by them. I don’t think it’s any accident that when narcissistic parents choose a scapegoat, they usually choose the most sensitive child–the one most likely to be empathetic and have idealistic values. To a narcissist, idealism and empathy are weaknesses. They truly believe that the poor deserve to be poor, and they make no exception for their own child. The child with traits that cause them to become a scapegoat (and who all too often are also bullied at school) would probably become successful if they were raised in a loving, nurturing home, but in a narcissistic home, having these traits is a curse because that child is led to believe they are worthless and this leads to cowardly, “safe” choices that are more likely to lead to poverty. They are constantly told they will fail, that nothing they do is good enough, and then are usually “tossed out to the wolves” at a young age, with no family financial or emotional support to help them get a foothold in the larger world. I have read so many blogs by the scapegoated children of narcissistic families, who were forced to make their own way in the world with no family support, even if their parents could have afforded to help them, and even when other children in the family (who were not scapegoated) did receive support when they entered adulthood.

What is so ironic about all this is we scapegoats are rejected and hated for the very traits that were instilled in us as children! Scapegoated children are not encouraged to think independently or have ideas of their own. In fact, having a mind of one’s own is reason for punishment and abuse. We were trained to be deferent and obedient–and very much afraid. Deference, obedience and fear are not traits that lead to success in modern life. I think this training is deliberate, in that an evil narcissistic parent needs and wants someone they can use as the family trashcan–someone who can take and absorb all the family pathology and carry its burden. This child is then blamed for everything that goes wrong both within the family and in their own lives. When a scapegoated child becomes an adult, their low self esteem and fear almost inevitably leads to a life of material and financial lack, and this gives the narcissist parents an excuse for rejecting that child and refusing to help–for “violating” their materialistic, self-centered values. I think another reason narcissistic parents train HSP (highly sensitive) children to be scapegoats is because they know an HSP child must be silenced: this is a child who sees through their lies and can use the light of truth to blow the whistle on them. If they are encouraged to think and act independently, they might “out” the narcissistic parent and that is a prospect that terrifies them.

Of course, the best revenge for a scapegoated child is to become successful in spite of their upbringing–and of course there are those who have. Even then, narcissistic parents will find reasons to put that child’s accomplishments down as somehow not “good enough.” The few times in my adult life where I had some legitimate tangible success, I was never praised for it, but given some sort of left-handed compliment or told why it didn’t really count. I was also always compared with my more financially successful older half-siblings, who of course never had been designated the family scapegoat.

Narcissistic parents also don’t care if you have a mental disability. I’m a self-diagnosed Aspie (this was later confirmed by a psychiatrist) and suffer from intermittent major depression, but when I tried to tell my parents these were the reasons why I had so much trouble making the social connections necessary to become financially successful, these diagnoses were dismissed. I was told I was “making excuses.” Both my parents are convinced my poverty is my own fault because of the stupid choices I made. While I don’t deny having made dumb choices, these choices were based on the way I had been raised–to be afraid of taking any risks or challenging myself.

The only way to break the narcissist/scapegoat family dynamic (and it is probably the most toxic parent-child combination imaginable) is by cutting off contact with the abusive parent, because as long as you keep trying to please them, they will continue to attempt to break you down and make you feel insignificant. Nothing will ever please them, even if you dare to become more successful than they are. And if you somehow manage to do this without sacrificing your idealistic and empathetic values, that’s the biggest threat to them of all.

Make no mistake: your narcissistic parent doesn’t love you and never will, but it isn’t your fault. They hate you because they envy those qualities you have–empathy and humanity–that elude them. Be a good parent to yourself. Love yourself. You deserve it.

Narcissists don’t change

Posted on November 1, 2014 by luckyotter

I read a lot of blogs written by ACONs (Adult Children of Narcissists) and without exception, all these survivors yearned (or still yearn) for the parental love they were entitled to but never received.

Narcissists can’t feel love. Sure, they might pretend they love you when others are present (they’re great at wearing masks and keeping up appearances), but their true nature doesn’t even know the meaning of the word love.

For many years into adulthood, I wanted nothing more than for my narcissistic mother to approve of me. Like most narcissists, she was all about appearance and image. When I was young, she was obsessed with my weight and physical appearance, and always insisted on making me into her own image. She herself was vain, and seemed incapable of discussing deep topics or ideas. Narcissists have an uncanny ability to never show any vulnerable side of themselves, and this includes sharing any dreams with you. I’m not talking about the kind you have when you sleep, but the kind of dreams that give us hope for happiness in this life. I can’t remember one time when my mother ever shared a dream with me. She was already perfect–she didn’t need to have a dream. She also never, not once, ever shared a true emotion with me. She was incapable of being vulnerable or showing anyone (especially me) any vulnerability. And in keeping with that, she was incapable of empathy. She could never understand my feelings or hurts, and was usually more than happy to add to my hurts. I remember once, she made fun of me after she said a particularly hurtful thing, and then mocked the sad expression on my face–you know, pouting in an exaggerated way and drawing fake tears down her cheeks.

She was part of the positive thinking tyranny. (For more on how some people misuse the positive thinking movement, see this article.) Many narcissists use the positive thinking movement as a way to shame others for having feelings or to avoid taking responsibility. They’re big fans of positive thinking slogans, such as “your feelings are your own responsibility, not mine” or “you have chosen to be poor because of your negative attitude.” I remember once when I was being treated unfairly at my job (by a narcissistic boss, of course) instead of showing support and offering words of comfort, my N mother made my boss the victim, essentially telling me I probably caused him and my coworkers to dislike me because of my “negative attitude.” This is the sort of “love” you’ll get from a narcissist.

Narcissists also have an odd way of dismissing sentimentality. My mother never kept family photos around the house (because they were too “tacky”) and all the family photos were stashed into albums and boxes and packed away in the attic. A few years ago, I told my mother I would like to have some of the family photos, but she avoided the issue and changed the subject. About a year later, annoyed at being asked about them for the umpteenth time, she told me she had thrown them away. Who throws away family photos?! I was gobsmacked, but at the same time, I thought how typical that was of her. She could have sent them to me if she didn’t want them, but no, that would have made me happy, so throwing them away was better.

Back in those days, I hadn’t gone No Contact yet, and whenever in my mother’s presence, I felt small and belittled. Even when she didn’t actually say anything mean, there was always that condescending, withering look. I always felt nervous before having to see her or talk to her, without quite knowing why.

Now I know why (even though she always told me I was the crazy one who was being paranoid), and I’ve been No Contact now for almost three years. She sends me a birthday card every year, with phony mass produced Hallmark messages of love. When I get these cards, I just toss them in the trash. Coming from her, they mean nothing. She won’t ever change, because narcissists can’t. Trying to please a narcissist won’t work, so don’t waste your time. It will only wind up causing you frustration and hurt. They only want you on their side so they can use you. If they’re nice to you, it means they probably sense you pulling away from them. They can’t have that.

Of course I regret not having a loving parent or extended family. I regret not being able to see my mother (and her various flying monkeys, most of whom are also relatives) on big holidays like Christmas and Thanksgiving. I regret not ever having had the experience of a real heart to heart talk with my own mother. I can’t help feeling sad when others ask me where I’m going for holidays and have to tell them, “nowhere.” Because you see, my mother turned just about everyone in her extended family against me. Most of them barely know me, but narcissists are usually persuasive people who could sell ice to an Eskimo, and my mother’s “sold” me as a horrible, ungrateful, unsuccessful loser who doesn’t deserve happiness.

In my family, only visible evidence of success and physical attractiveness is acceptable. If you’re fat, unattractive, poor or disabled, you’re a “nothing” or a “nobody,” even if you’re a great person. My mother has actually used those words to discuss a cousin of mine, who is morbidly obese. “Laura’s a nothing.” She overlooks the fact that Laura is an accomplished artist who has won awards in several art shows, and also volunteers at her local food pantry. As for me, I am not rich or successful (because I was never given the tools and the self esteem to become successful as an adult), and so I’m a “nothing” too. She looks down on my poverty, and blames me for it.

I don’t need narcissistic people in my life, and one by one I have been weeding them out. And as I do so, I am growing, finding out what Lucky Otter is really all about. I’m finding out that I’m a pretty great person who is just blooming late in life.

Too bad my N mother won’t ever know the real me. Not that she’d care.

If you have a narcissistic parent, the most loving thing you can do for yourself is to make it impossible for them to hurt you anymore. They aren’t going to change. In fact, they get worse with age. As their looks and health begin to go, they feel extremely threatened by the reality of becoming vulnerable or needy, and rage takes over. They will no longer even pretend to be “nice.” You have to go No Contact, no matter how much it hurts. Rest assured though, you are not hurting them by doing this. They are incapable of feeling hurt. You’ll only hurt yourself if you remain in their thrall.

Reflecting on Narcissism: much less than just a pretty face

Posted on October 22, 2014 by luckyotter

Narcissism is a disorder named after Narcissus, a young hunter who, according to Greek mythology, fell so much in love with his own reflection staring back at him in a pool of water, that he fell in the pool and drowned.

In actuality, while some narcissists are as vain as our Greek god, most would not necessarily fit the stereotype of a physically vain person. My narcissistic mother is vain, but my ex-husband is anything but. In fact, he cares very little about his physical appearance. Narcissists look like anyone else–it’s their actions and behavior that give them away.

Another misunderstanding about narcissists is that they love themselves. They don’t. People who love themselves are people who know who they are, and are a pleasure to be around. But narcissists don’t hate themselves either, at least not in the same way a neurotic individual with a poor self image hates himself. Narcissists don’t think they’re disturbed enough to seek therapy. They’re not suffering; you are. It’s everyone else who is nuts, not them. The reason they are so self-centered is because they have lost their true self and deep down, they know it.

While a few narcissists may have been born that way (there is some evidence narcissism has a genetic component), for the most part I don’t think there are “bad seeds.” Usually (though not always), at a very young age, their true self was lost, possibly by a parent failing to “mirror” them during the language learning stage when they were infants and toddlers. It’s my opinion that maternal neglect during early childhood can lead to NPD–as well as possibly autism (which is intriguing since autism and NPD are so vastly different from each other–and yet both share a failure to become sufficiently socialized or relate to others). So narcissists can’t love or hate themselves because they can’t access their true self, which is unknown to them. Their self centeredness stems from a need to be mirrored–something all babies need but their own parents may have failed or were unable to do. It would be interesting to find out if foster children are more likely to develop narcissism than children from loving families. It would also be interesting to find out if people with NPD and autism are more likely than others to have narcissistic parents, especially narcissistic mothers, who would be unable to “mirror” them adequately as infants. I would bet there’s a correlation.

Narcissists can’t experience genuine emotion because there is no true self there (or is greatly diminished)–so everything they say and do is an act. They are chameleons who can change their behavior or image at the drop of a hat because all they are doing is reflecting back what they see in the people they are dealing with. If you abandon them or wrong them, or even disagree with them, it devastates them because you are taking away their false acquired “self,” which means they are then forced to acknowledge their emptiness. In fact, that’s the only real pain they feel–the pain of their own emptiness. That’s why they must constantly fill the void. Like the vampires they are, they will suck you dry in an attempt to fill the black hole that has replaced their real self. Unlike Narcissus (but like vampires), when they look into the mirror, they don’t see a beautiful reflection. What they see is nothing, and that is so terrifying to them they must constantly seek to fill the void with whatever they can suck out of others.

In fact, that’s the only time a narcissist may contemplate suicide–when, for whatever reason, they are unable to attain “narcissistic supply,” they are forced to behold their own empty reflection in the mirror. Farther along the psychopathy spectrum, narcissists are more likely to retaliate against the person who abandoned or wronged them than to inflict self-harm, and this is where you’ll find murders and murder-suicides.

Narcissists both hate and envy vulnerability in others, and act out through both attaching themselves to and bullying such people. They desperately want that innate ability to feel and intuit things that a sensitive person has, but they also envy and are terrified of it because it’s the one thing that can expose them for the fakes they really are. I remember my mother raged at me often during my teen years, but her worst rages were the times when I called her out on her shallowness and lack of empathy. At those times there was always a look of utter fear in her eyes as she raged on, as if some truth had been exposed. I wasn’t even aware of this at the time, but in fact I nailed it and it scared her to death.

They would rather break the mirror than confront what isn’t there.

Conversation with a narcissist: part two

Posted on October 20, 2014 by luckyotter

I didn’t blog about it, but this weekend my daughter was admitted to the psychiatric ward due to major depression. I was concerned because she hadn’t gotten out of bed or eaten anything in 4 days. Her father who is a psychopath and a narcissist, seemed concerned as well and met me at the hospital where we waited several hours for her to be admitted. He was actually pleasant for a change, and while I didn’t allow his charm to lure me into giving away too much information or convince me he wasn’t really that bad, I thought maybe…just maybe…he might be changing. After all, he did seem to care about his daughter’s well-being (even if it was to ensure he could continue to manipulate her after she gets out).

Boy, was I wrong.

After that meeting, he won’t stop texting me, and last night it was getting so annoying I finally just stopped answering his constant texts (mostly to ask for things of his he needed that I have in my house–as always, it’s all about him). I guess that pissed him off, because first thing this morning, he texted me again, and these texts quickly turned nasty. Here’s the conversation. I’ll let it speak for itself.

Michael: please when you bring the computer and black backpack, please please bring a tube of BIOFREZE…I have serious strain in my left bicep, it’s killing me. It’s in the cabinet in the bathroom.

Michael: today is one of the only days you can go to work knowing that Molly is safe, and you won’t come home to find her dead. Rejoice!

Me: That’s a shitty thing to say esp first thing in the morning

Michael: Re read it

Me: If a joke that’s pretty fucked up

Michael: you are reading it wrong. Or is English a second language for you?

Me: How the fck am I reading it wrong? I also don’t appreciate the little dig there on my intelligence

Michael: you told me every day you worry u would come home and find her dead [this is true]. well you do not have to worry today cause she is safe. I cannot help it that you are an idiot.

Me: U want me to stop talking to you? Then keep it up. I’m not a fucking idiot.

Michael: Done. no need to talk. I need that puter and biofreze and do not give away my clothes [he is homeless] Let me know what day you get around to it

Me: I cannot do it until the weekend. No money for gas to get downtown to meet you

Michael: do it on the way home

Me: Do not order me around. I said it would be on the weekend. I already told you I won’t forget as long as I find these things. I cannot do it today, sorry

Me: Tell u what. I’ll call if I can bring them sooner. Now drop it please, I need to get ready for work.

Michael: Feeling Bipolar today I see talk to me when you become rational again. have a nice date. [not sure if this was a deliberate misspelling or not]

I was tempted to hurl an insult back but decided to just ignore him after that last dig. He has not changed. He will never change. I’m glad, however, that my daughter is in a safe place for now and cannot hurt herself.

I promise this will be the last of these narcissist conversations. I think everyone probably gets the idea, but this is the way he operates.

Conversation with a narcissist

Posted on October 17, 2014 by luckyotter

Last week my daughter was in a car wreck (see “Shit Happens”). She has minor injuries to her back and lumbar region but the car (which was in my name and she wasn’t supposed to drive until she got her license reinstated–she is trying to work off a DUI) was totaled. The other driver in the Hyundai SUV was at fault for failing to yield and he wasn’t licensed either.

She waited 3 days to go to the hospital because her back didn’t start bothering her until Saturday (The wreck was on Thursday). I had to give her the driver’s exchange form (which gives all the information about both vehicles, both drivers, and both insurance companies) to show the hospital. She’s been lying in bed for two days and I think she may be having a major depressive episode, which is understandable. But even before the accident, she has been increasingly unreliable and irresponsible. So before she went to the ER, I stressed the importance of getting back this document so I can inform the other driver’s insurance company so we can possibly get some money. I must have told her ten times to please keep it safe and have the hospital make a copy, so what did she do? She returned saying the hospital wouldn’t give it back to her and would not make a copy. Molly lies about a lot of things, and I didn’t believe her. I think she forgot or she lost it. She was also in another county because she was visiting her latest boyfriend, who I think is a meth-head, and it’s very inconvenient for me to drive the 50 miles to that particular hospital to get this document. I need the document SO SHE CAN GET SOME MONEY BACK, or if the other driver’s insurance company fails to pay (because she was not licensed), she could possibly see an attorney and get a settlement for bodily injury. All week I’ve been able to do nothing about this situation because I was missing the most important document.

Yesterday I called the sheriff’s office and gave the name of the officer who wrote her the citation, but oh no, it’s not as simple as just printing me off another copy of the form. I was told (rudely) that I would have to go to the records department at the courthouse (which means taking a day off from work), try to find parking (which is damn near impossible in downtown Asheville), and then stand in line for God only knows how long. My daughter can’t do it because the car’s in my name and she has no way to get downtown anyway.

So finally my psychopath ex-sperm donor texted me and the following conversation ensued. It started off with him offering to help and acting all concerned and fatherly, but pay close attention to the way his smooth manner still can make me trust him and show too much vulnerability, and then later watch the way he starts twisting things around to shift blame and/or make it all about himself. It’s easy to see the pattern and some of you dealing with narcissists will recognize the pattern. Things didn’t get too out of hand though, I did get the needed document, and I think I handled him well.

As always, real names were changed. Comments are in italics and explanations/clarifications are in [brackets]

Michael (x-spath):
Sorry to bother you but try to get Molly a lawyer for her accident a fractured hip means a good settlement and free money. lawyers could even come tothe house to get the info, just worried that she’s throwing another opportunity away. With the settlement she might be able to get another car and pay for school and pay bills at your place. so you have some interest in this. thanks.

Me: I agree w u 100% i really don’t know wat to do…she is very depressed and needs therapy not just meds but refuses to get it…also she lost drivers xchange form when she went to hospital and w/o that i can’t do anything to help her get money back…i have no time to go to records office to get a dup…she has become so unreliable…also stealing..no goals…going nowhere…pissing everything away….so depressed all the time, maybe major depressive episode…i think she needs to be committed to [name of local mental facility] of have an intervention or something i am very concerned…

Michael: [this next message was sent in 24 consecutive texts–while I was working. I have consolidated them]
that info is in the accident report. how does she keep losing stuff…her phone…then she parties after the crash and looses that info. the police will have the report , u must have time date and location plus the car descriptions [telling me what I already know] Talk about irresponsible, geez. Ask her if it was APD [Asheville Police Dept.] or Sheriff. I bet it was APD. call them and get the information, make her pay u for the trouble after the settlement. this is stuff she should be doind instead of feeling sorry for herself.

So far so good.

Me: I’ll try she won’t do anything I ask tho…my ins. may go up as much as 400% after this.

Michael: also your insurance company will have the info since they are going to raise your rates. If they have no info on the crash, then there was no crash and they can

Me: I knew something like this would happen but she is so sneaky, there was no way i could keep her from driving…she always found the key…car was totalled thank God at least she’s alive…but the way she is acting, is like the walking dead [showing too much vulnerability to a narc as usual]

Michael: …not raise rates on a rumor and no police report.

Fair enough. He’s getting me to trust him…

Me: It’s all very overwhelming tbh. [again, showing too much vulnerability]

Michael: Why wasn’t Meth Head [current boyfriend’s name] driving. He has a license. fucking looser. [starting in with the name calling and blame shifting]

Me: Idk, im at work now ttyl (I don’t know, I’m at work now, talk to you later)

Michael: [watch how he starts shifting blame to me]
but you could have taken over the car at some point. now she can’t go to probation or court, good news is that all her druggie friends will not be asking for rides.

Me: True

Me: Idk how low her bottom has to be before she gets some help she just refuses to listen to anything I say…there’s nothing I can do to make her change…I hope you are aware of that…I’m really scared Ill come home one day and find her dead of an overdose…she’s gotta talk to someone

Michael: [now becoming sarcastic as well as shifting blame and shirking any responsibility]
cannot help you there , remember I am homeless thanks to you [because I kicked him out after he beat up my daughter and refused to contribute to the household in any way] but maybe your new roomie can help. I thought it was all rainbows and unicorns after I was gone.

Me: Let’s not go there, ok?

Michael: I like your positive message that you will find her dead. Keep thinking that way and it will happen.
See if you can get the accident report number from the APD. then call a lawyer

Me: ok will do. TTYL, bye.

He is not through yet.

Michael: I texted her on FB to do the same.

Me: Good.

He now sees that I am done and no longer want to talk; starts love bombing with helpful offers.

Michael: well I am next to the APD…I will try to get it for you.

Me: Ok. case # XX-XXXXXX. …ask for the drivers exchange form. Its free i think.

Michael: what day did it happen

Me: Oct 9 thursday

Michael: awesome…at least you were thinking. [notice the dig there–he always used to point out how stupid and lacking in common sense I was]

I chose to ignore the insult and not take it personally although I am very tempted to call him out on this.

Michael: thanks….I will try to get it today. arrange for pick up tonight or on your way home.

Me: thanks…text me later [I was on the job still]

A few hours later:

Michael: Got it! and he [the other driver] was without a doubt at fault as he “Failed to yield.” Molly hopefully has the hospital papers. His ins. company is Integon ..you and Molly need to come up with a reason she waited to go to the hospital…[starts telling me what to say, and what lies to tell] …like she was very upset and no way to get there. Had a friend in [a neighboring county] drive her to that hospital vs. Mission St. Joes. She began to hurt a day or 2 later, but thought it was just sore from seatbelt. [the truth is she did not start to hurt until a few days after the wreck and also was too depressed to get out of bed] ..u can try a lawyer and give them the info you have….time, date location, car model etc, they might be able to take it from there

Michael [continuing on his diatribe]
never mind badmouthing and finding faults. [current boyfriend’s name] is not good for her. You may want to change the PIN # on your bankcard. She or u need that hospital report and get a lawyer very soon. [goes into self pity mode] I am homeless and I don’t have any power to help you with your problems with her. Get this accident claim started and deal with the other stuff later.

Michael: Keep on her lazy ass. It’s free money, but she don’t want to lift a finger [kind of true, actually]. If you get a settlement then go from there…maybe hold the money till she does something positive [ok, I admit that’s fairly reasonable]

Michael: She watches that show. [what show?] C. (ex-boyfriend’s name) was better for her as he wasn’t a fucking meth head like (current bf). just look at his fucking teeth.

Michael: Sucks for you.

Michael: Maybe after you get the insurance process started we could all meet and have coffee. discuss what the hell she is going to do going forward. Even if she goes to rehab, she comes back to the same pill popping friends [actually all of this is the truth unfortunately…but he’s trying to upset me and stir the pot as can be seen in the next sentence]

Michael: or she will get prego by some fucking unemployed drug addled looser.

Nice.

And he’s not done yet.

Michael: she went thru that 20K [her trust fund from my father] in 6-8 weeks. I told her to put money in CDs so she would have some down the road. this time you must make her do that and not blow the money. [notice how he makes it my responsibility to control my adult daughter’s poor choices when I have tried over and over again with no success. This just instills more anxiety and guilt]

Michael: (friend’s name) who she spent like 2K on doesn’t even talk to her. she spent 600 on me and says she gave you 6K [not true, it was about 1K to help with bills] Spent 7K on car, 2K on vacation. paid 2500 on fine [she was and still is on probation]. And the rest on clothes and a lot of pills [probably all true].

Michael: she cannot do that again. she must find a trade. or she will get a felony and be unemployable. [I have talked to her until I’m blue in the face about going to school and cleaning up her life but she refuses to do anything I suggest, and he knows I am powerless.] Ethan [her brother] is going to school, doing all this and she is actually smarter than him. [she has a higher IQ but he is making much smarter choices and doing well, proving IQ means jack shit]

Michael: Find a way to get the report from me toay. I am at the salvation army (homeless shelter). Molly can direct you or take Patton to Precision Tire. We met there before. Use your GPS

Me: ok I can’t read all these til later I’m at work…Thanks for getting it though, I will text u later when I’m off work, thanks

Me: I do have the hospital papers.

Michael: You are thinking today! [another dig] so anyway thats good. does it sat “hip fracture” and “broken toe”?

Me: I have to check later. i am not home rite now.

Michael: ok…come meet me with Molly…she will direct you [I am perfectly capable of finding the meeting place myself] we will get coffee and such. she wants you to get lunchables.

Me: I am still at work! And I’m broke so I can’t buy the snacks today, I hardly have any gas. I need to go home and change first so it wont be 4 a few more hours…

Michael: K after 5 please. Get me McDonalds coffee [after I just told him I was broke]

Me: it will def. be after 5.. R U paying? I can’t buy you coffee, sorry

Michael: I will buy my own…not paying for yours. I am homeless remember? [I didn’t ask him to buy me coffee]
Let me know when you are on the way.

A few hours later…

Me: I’m on the way now. Give me half an hour. Please text when you get this so I know you will be there

Me: Ok?

He doesn’t text back until I am nearly there.

Michael: First left at precision tire, N Ann st. last house, large gravel parking lot. pull in there

He knows my GPS requires an actual address not just a street name.

Michael: Take Molly

Me: she was sleeping. Also need address so i can gps it.

Michael: [repeats previous directions]

Michael: wake her up. Now. do not come if she is not coming. [he never told me to bring her earlier]

Michael: she knows exactly where it is. wake her up as this is for her and not u or me…I will not meet u unless Molly gets her ass out of bed

Me: I am already more than halfway to downtown she didn’t want to get up , please just give me the address.

Michael: no.

Me: ???

Michael: if she can not bother to do the steps to get a settlement on her claim then fuck it.
She awake? Get her in the car.

Me: I can’t I don’t have enough gas to go back now and get her.

–end of conversation–

Finally he gives me the damn address. Then he calls, saying he ALREADY GAVE ME THE ADDRESS earlier, which is a lie. He also said he wouldn’t meet me unless I bought him a coffee, even though I told him I was broke. I was about to turn around and go back, and then decided to use my last couple of bucks for the week to buy him his coffee because I really needed those papers.

I finally got the paper I needed, and also an entire texted conversation that is really very boring and went on ALL DAY, but illustrates clearly the way a narcissist operates. Michael used every trick in the narcissist grab bag: put downs, blame shifting, name calling, manipulation, lies, guilt-tripping, self-pity, gaslighting, and more lies. It made me wonder how the hell I lived with him for so long without putting a bullet in my head.

It also was a wake up call to me–how whenever I’m in his presence I act helpless and vulnerable–and those are exactly the qualities a narcissist both despises and needs like they need air and water. I need to watch that trait more around him and other narcissists and not show so much vulnerability.

I’m tuckered out.

So I decided to blog about it. I had no other ideas for today anyway.

We Need a 12-Step Program for the Self Absorbed

Posted on October 15, 2014 by luckyotter

I came across this article in the Reader and was really impressed by it. It’s also a nice counterpoint to my article from a few days ago, Narcissists who use 12-Step Programs to further Their Agenda.
Enjoy!

See, there's this thing called biology...

Desperately. We’ve become a nation-cult of narcissists, so enamored by our own selves it’s a wonder we don’t just spontaneously combust. It’s so bad people are actually taking selfies of our very own selves. People are consumed by our own health issues, our various disorders, our own particular brokenness, our social concerns. Even in our social concerns it’s become all about us, our martyrdom, we’re the only one who cares, look at me, I’m so socially conscious and aware! Filthy rags, indeed.

Even faith frequently becomes something we like to lord over others, evidence of our own vast moral superiority. Not all of course, but our TV’s are constantly selling prosperity, beauty, and power, for three easy payments of 19.95. Become a Christian, you’ll get free stuff! CS Lewis was right when he said that kind of happiness was to be found in a bottle of port, not in Christianity.

So, in the 12…

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Yes Virginia…evil people really do exist. Don’t think–run!

Posted on October 12, 2014 by luckyotter

Those of us in an active relationship with a psychopath usually either don’t see or choose to ignore how purely evil these characters are–and that they are set out to destroy the relationship, the victimized person, and even the children if there are any involved. Many times a victim feels like they can’t leave, especially if they don’t have financial resources (which is often the case when a person is enmeshed with a psychopath, who may have made any funds impossible to access), a supportive family to help them escape, or there are children involved.

Like most women (and men) enmeshed in a marriage or relationship with a psychopath, I waited far too long to leave my abuser. My son, although scapegoated by his father through most of his childhood, escaped relatively unscathed (although he has some anger and self esteem issues), but my daughter is another story. She was deeply damaged by her father’s manipulations and by having to play the role of his junior “flying monkey” and participate in his triangulation and gaslighting games when she was just a child and young teenager, not to mention being introduced to things a youngster should not have to deal with: drugs, alcohol, family violence (and even possible sexual abuse, though this has never been proven). She’s taken on a few of his narcissistic traits (she’s good at manipulation and isn’t always honest), although narcissism is to some extent genetic and her symptoms don’t seem to be too severe. She is also bipolar and suffers from C-PTSD, as I do.

For many years, I didn’t even see that he was an abuser. He wasn’t usually physically violent (except when drinking); his method of abuse was much more subtle–and more diabolical than that. I didn’t know what hit me and like most abused spouses, learned to blame myself and came to believe the discord was MY problem, because I “overreacted to everything” and was “crazy and unstable.” Having to spend time in a mental facility in the late 1990s was “proof” that I was the one with the mental problems–and in fact I did have serious mental problems, but they were brought on by my mind being played like a violin by a very evil man. He was a virtuoso crazymaker.

Other people saw how evil he was and couldn’t understand why I couldn’t see it too. I remember a friend of mine from work came over once with another friend when Michael was home, and while he was pleasant enough to them, neither of these friends ever wanted to come to my home again. When I asked Holly (one of the friends) why not, she said, “I don’t like your husband and neither does Teresa. He gave us the creeps, there’s just something not very nice about him.”

Parents of two of my daughter’s friends had met Michael, and would not allow their children to come to my home because of him. Oh, he was always on his best behavior with adult visitors, but one of the mothers told me, “he seems perfectly polite, but I just don’t feel comfortable around him and don’t want my daughter around him. I’m very sorry.”

I saw the evil in him on one occasion while we were still married–and what I saw scared the shit out of me. It was one night when he was very drunk, we had been fighting all night and ended it by having sex. The sex was rough and angry though, and suddenly I looked up and saw a totally expressionless face. There was no love there, just pure hatred. I could feel the hate emanating from him. But worse than that was his eyes. Normally a steely gray-blue, they had turned solid black, very similar to the solid black eyes demons in horror movies have. I know I wasn’t imagining this–what I was seeing was what he really was but kept hidden. No, not a demon, but something worse–a person with no self, a person who had sold his soul or never had one. There was nothing there, and nothingness is what evil actually is. That’s why malignant narcissists and psychopaths need to wear masks, to cover up what isn’t there.

Michael knew I had seen it, and knew I knew, because he immediately ended the intimacy, pulled on his clothes, and left the house, but not before giving me the most hateful sneer I had ever seen.

My father had talked to him one night during one of our many fights. Now my father has never been a particularly religious man and never believed in Satan or hell, so he didn’t say anything about this to me at the time, but years later, after Michael and I separated, he confessed that night he had heard Michael speaking in a low, gutteral, demonic voice. It scared him so much he decided to read M. Scott Peck’s book,”People of the Lie,” and after he was done he sent me the book. I was riveted by the book and also shocked and scared to death. That was the first time I began to realize that I had been dealing with a malignant narcissist who was dead set on destroying me and my children and almost succeeded.

People outside the relationship–casual friends, mothers of my children’s friends, and my father had all seen immediately what he was, but because I was enmeshed and had young children, I couldn’t see it–or refused to. It gives me chills to this day to think I spent 28 years in the presence of pure evil, but that’s what it was. I’m lucky to be alive today and even luckier that I didn’t completely lose my soul. My children are lucky too, although my poor daughter is the most deeply damaged by him and may never fully recover.

If you are in a relationship and others are wary or uncomfortable around them and can’t explain why, or you see the countenance of pure hatred and evil that I did (and also the solid black eyes), run away as fast as you can. If there are kids, take them with you. You may think you can’t, but even if you don’t have a supportive family or are financially unable to find another place to live, most towns and cities have services and even shelters for abused women and their children. The shelter I stayed at with my kids was very nice, and the counselors were wonderful (I went back though). If you are a man, it may be more difficult to find this kind of help, and you might have to dig a little deeper or even move to another area to find services, but they do exist. Take advantage of the government programs that still exist–food stamps, Medicaid for the kids, in some communities even housing vouchers. Churches and other charitable organizations have limited funds, but may be able to provide some food, help with bills, or other services. Seek counseling–many communities have free or low cost mental health services for abused parents and their children. Don’t worry that you have to move out of that big house you bought together, or that your kids will be without their father (or mother). This is life or death–don’t think about what you’ll be losing because at the end of the day, it won’t be much. Just get the hell out.