HSPs and empaths, take heed! You cannot heal a narcissist!

Posted on June 20, 2016 by luckyotter

In my readings and observations of people in the narc-abuse community, I’ve become aware that Highly Sensitive People (HSPs), empaths in particular, are highly attracted to narcissists. The reverse is also true–narcissists see an empath and smell blood. As an HSP myself (though not an empath), I have always been drawn to narcissists as friends and romantic partners. This has gotten me into a world of trouble and almost destroyed me until I finally learned to resist their “charms” and go No Contact whenever possible.

Why Empaths are so attracted to Narcissists.

It’s a psychological truism that we tend to be attracted to people similar to the people who raised us. For those of us who were the most sensitive child in the family and as a result, became the family scapegoat, developed codependent personalities, or even developed a form of Stockholm Syndrome toward our abusers, we continue to carry our legacy or “people pleasing” into adult life and find ourselves drawn toward other narcissistic people, who are very good at promising us the world and vowing to solve all our problems. But getting involved with a narcissist is the ultimate bait and switch–they make a lot of empty promises to love you unconditionally and never betray or hurt you, but they don’t deliver. Not even close. All they care about is feeding off of your love and generosity in order to keep their false self inflated like a balloon toy.

Not only are we fooled into believing the narcissist will be the answer to all our woes and fill our own inner emptiness, HSPs and empaths are also drawn to the “hurt inner child” inside every narcissist. Most people can’t see the emotional void and deep unhappiness at the core of an NPD; they just see the narcissist as either a likeable charmer or a huge A-hole (depending on their role to the narcissist or stage of the relationship), but empaths see beyond the “false self” to what really lies beneath the carefully constructed facade. This is why empaths and HSPs were so often scapegoated as children–because they were children who could see the ugly truth and sometimes even blew the whistle on the narcissistic parent–and nothing terrifies a narcissist more than being exposed as living a complete lie.

I’ve talked to quite a few empaths who actually seek out narcissists to love, in spite of having been educated about narcissistic abuse and the very real dangers they pose both spiritually and emotionally. Empaths who choose to love a narcissist and think “this one is different” really ought to know better. They look at a narcissist and don’t see a predatory, toxic individual who only seeks to use and abuse for their own gain; instead they see only the “hurt inner child” living in darkness beneath the bright, cheerful facade.

Their observations and feelings are actually not wrong. Because empaths can see the truth about people, the damaged person they take so much empathy on is real. Narcissists are indeed hurt, damaged, deeply unhappy people, although some abuse victims prefer to think of them as inhuman devils without souls at all. Narcissists are definitely human, but they are dangerous, and especially deadly to an empath, because of how much such a person tends to give of themselves and how codependent they can become.

Like moths drawn into the flame.

Narcissists are drawn to empaths because (even though an empath can see beyond the false self, which scares narcissists), they give them everything they want. Deep inside, what every narcissist really wants is someone to love them unconditionally, and empaths are more than capable of doing that. They are also deeply envious of the empath’s ability to feel with no shame, even if they deny and hide their own feelings. Empaths are compassionate, patient, self-denying, always willing to listen without judging, and generous with their time, money, possessions, emotions, and everything else they have to give, both tangible and intangible. An empath’s love for a narcissist will cause them to stick by them no matter how much abuse gets dumped on them in return. Empaths are perfect candidates for Stockholm Syndrome. They will keep giving and giving, while the narcissist gives nothing in return except heartache and pain.

Some empaths may seem masochistic because everyone else can see that the narcissist is sucking the empath’s lifeblood away, turning them into a dried up husk of the whole person they once were, but the empath, like a moth driven to a flame, continues to give and give and give until they have nothing left to give. It’s not masochism that drives an empath to stay with the narcissist and allow this abuse, though–it’s the deep belief empaths have that their unconditional love alone can heal the narcissist and make them whole again.

It’s a beautiful idea, that unconditional love can heal a narcissist and transform them into loving, authentic human beings. It would be nice if things really worked that way, but only in fairy tales and movies do such things happen. The Beast is won over by Beauty’s love and is transformed into a loving prince; the miserly Scrooge is transformed into a generous and compassionate philanthropist; The Grinch grows a huge heart out of the hard little stone in his chest when he hears the Whos singing down in Whoville in spite of having all their Christmas presents stolen; Jerry McGuire changes overnight from a selfish, materialistic jerk into a nice guy. Usually it’s the love of someone else–often a woman or child–who is the catalyst in getting the narcissist to change their evil ways. These movies and stories touch our hearts and bring tears to our eyes because we wish life were really that way.

It’s tempting, if you’re an empathic type of person, to want to reach that hurt inner child inside your narcissist and through your unconditional love alone, give them the courage to jettison their false self and let that inner child out, and finally learn how to love. But what’s far more likely to happen is that in spite of your best efforts, the narcissist will not change and will resist or even attack your efforts to transform them. They will just keep taking from you, for they have no idea how to give of themselves or how to love. You become drawn deeper into their web of misery and darkness, and eventually have nothing left to give and finally, your soul is destroyed beyond repair.

The only way to help a narcissist.

You cannot help a narcissist by giving them your love. The best way to help a narcissist is to stop giving them narcissistic supply–in other words, going No Contact. Only then is there a small chance that without that fuel, they will be forced to confront their own emptiness and pain, which could lead to them seeking professional help. But don’t count on it. Most likely, they will just move on to a new source of supply or try to hoover you back in.

I’ve stated many times that I don’t think most narcissists are beyond hope. I’m one of the few narc-abuse bloggers that holds to that view, and sees narcissists as a different, more dangerous type of abuse victim. It’s not a very popular view, but it’s mine and I’m not likely to change it. A few weeks ago, I wrote about Apostle Paul, a malignant narcissist if there ever was one, who was changed by the Holy Spirit into a righteous (if still slightly arrogant) devoted follower of Christ. I know of NPDs who are in therapy or treatment, or were in therapy and have actually been deemed NPD-free or are at least working hard to change their ways and become more authentic, loving people. NPDs are sad people who know their lives are empty and shallow and essentially meaningless, even if they never admit it. Some even become consciously aware of how exhausting and essentially unfulfilling their dependence on others to feel good about themselves (and what they feel good about isn’t even who they really are) really is.

I’ve always believed that with both self-awareness (knowing one is a narcissist) and willingness to change (disliking what one has become), that healing becomes possible. But change isn’t something that can magically happen through an empath’s unconditional love. If it’s going to happen at all, it takes years and years of difficult and grueling therapy by a trained professional who knows exactly what works for this disorder (and what doesn’t)–and because they are trained in this, are not going to get pulled down into oblivion by allowing the narcissist to feed on their heart like a predatory animal. Healing can also come through an act of God, as it did with Paul. We can love a narcissist (but from a safe distance!), and we can ask God to help him or her–and maybe that will turn out to be God’s will too. You never know. God may have a special mission for them and decide to remove the scales from their eyes. But please, empaths and HSPs, never try to cure a narcissist yourself through your unconditional love. It won’t work. You don’t know how to do it. Leave it to the professionals and God.

Do narcissists cry?

Posted on May 15, 2016 by luckyotter

This is a revision of the Jan. 1, 2015 article. It’s one of my most popular posts, so I figured I’d post it again, with a few changes.

Do narcissists cry? Sure, they do. Of course they do. And the histrionic, somatic types will cry conspicuously and loudly and convulsively and make sure everyone notices. Think of Joan Crawford’s over the top histrionics in he movie Mommie Dearest. The attention they get from this show of dramatics (which you cannot ignore) elicits lots of narcissistic supply for them and gets them the sympathy they crave. Remember, positive attention isn’t necessary to serve as supply to a narcissist. Any sort of attention–even disgust and anger–will do.

Self-serving crying and fake empathy.
Narcissists cry for themselves, never for you. They *might*cry when they see a sad movie, if they experience themselves through that character. Movies are a safe way to shed tears, even for those who don’t cry easily (and that includes non-narcs too). But narcissists aren’t really crying for the characters in the movie. They are really crying for themselves.

Some narcissists who are good actors can pretend to cry for others–these are dangerous narcissists able to feign empathy but show their true colors after they’ve charmed you and duped you into thinking they’re the nicest, most sympathetic person in the world. But it’s all fake. Those “empathetic tears” are crocodile tears. A narcissist can never cry for anyone but themselves.

Narcissists are just big babies.
Kim Saeed, a writer who has an excellent and extremely popular blog here at WordPress about narcissistic abuse, wrote an insightful article about what makes a narcissist cry (basically, self pity and attention getting). It’s a good read. Narcissists cry the way an infant cries–to have their immediate needs met. Whether they admit it or not, they need a mother–and most likely never got adequate mothering, so they’re still trying to get it. Like an infant, they are incapable of separating themselves from others and can feel no empathy for anyone else.

Here’s who your narcissist really is.

While some narcissists take pride in their appearance, professional accomplishments, athletic prowess, or outstanding intelligence, there are some narcissists (the covert type) who take a perverse pride in being as pitiful and pathetic as it’s possible to be. These are what I call “needy narcissists” (Kim Saeed refers to them as “extreme narcissists”). Many of our mothers (not mine–my mother was overt and aggressive) fall into this category. They guilt-trip you and constantly whine about how badly you’ve treated them. They remind you of all the wonderful things they’ve done for you. They are emotional, financial and spiritual vampires who will suck you dry if given half a chance. They tend to attract empaths and HSPs and codependent types of people who are willing to give them the pity and sympathy they crave. And they use tears to elicit those things. Tears are powerful and contagious and get babies what they want–why not narcissists? Hey, if it works, use it.

Can a narcissist ever cry non-self serving tears?

A narcissist crying for reasons other than self-serving ones is rare. But if one ever enters therapy or gets to a point where they recognize their own narcissism and is able to grieve for their lost true self, it’s possible. Don’t get your hopes up though. That being said, I read an article by Sam Vaknin about the way he cries in his dreams, which I thought was pretty interesting. If something like this can happen, maybe it could be used as a catalyst to healing. Maybe. (Sam is not cured of NPD and probably never will be. It’s his livelihood).

Dreaming and “lucid” dreaming: a possible key to healing?
Dreams open us up to the subconscious mind, so remembering dreams is useful in therapy. For a narcissist, dreams have the potential of tapping into the atrophied and depressed true self–the self that dissociated and went into hiding during early childhood to protect itself from abuse by caregivers. Sam Vaknin writes about this phenomenon in this journal entry, in which he describes two nightmares that briefly brought him in contact with his true lost self, at least until he woke up.

He writes:

I dream of my childhood. And in my dreams we are again one big unhappy family. I sob in my dreams, I never do when I am awake. When I am awake, I am dry, I am hollow, mechanically bent upon the maximization of Narcissistic Supply. When asleep, I am sad. The all-pervasive, engulfing melancholy of somnolence. I wake up sinking, converging on a black hole of screams and pain. I withdraw in horror. I don’t want to go there. I cannot go there.

One’s narcissism stands in direct relation to the seething abyss and the devouring vacuum that one harbors in one’s True Self.

I know it’s there . I catch glimpses of it when I am tired, when I hear music, when reminded of an old friend, a scene, a sight, a smell. I know it is awake when I am asleep. I know that it subsists of pain – diffuse and inescapable. I know my sadness. I have lived with it and I have encountered it full force.

Perhaps I choose narcissism, as I have been “accused”. And if I do, it is a rational choice of self-preservation and survival. The paradox is that being a self-loathing narcissist may be the only act of self-love I have ever committed.

Crying of the Stone Angel by Eternal Dream Art at Deviantart.com

Can a narcissist’s true self ever see the light of day?

The true self is there in hiding, sometimes peeking out in dreams. A narcissist without insight (which is almost all of them) would not be able to write the post quoted above. Even if they were aware of having such a vulnerable inner self, they would never admit it. They’re so walled off from their true feelings they can’t access it even in dreams. Instead, they shore up a fake self that takes the place of the true one–but it’s not sustainable and will fall apart without a constant source of narcissistic supply that keeps it inflated like a balloon. The constant inflation keeps their false self alive and as long as it’s there, they never have to face the black emptiness inside where the atrophied child-self exists. If they fall into such a depression, they may go insane. Suicide is not unheard of.

Sadness and tears that could arise from being able to encounter one’s true self, even if only briefly in a dream, could be the key to healing. If only anyone really could figure out how to harness this and keep it accessible long enough for the narcissist to start doing some difficult internal work before they slap that mask back on. Harnessing any brief moments of emotional nakedness is like trying to hold onto a dream while awake–most of the time, it dissolves and fragments like soap bubbles before being swept away in the the river of day to day reality. It’s still there, buried in the narcissist’s unconscious the way a clam buries itself deep in the wet sand near the shore after the waves recede. But in all likelihood, the narcissist will die a narcissist, and no one (including themselves) will ever know what could have been. I think most of them choose to remain living in the darkness because it’s a whole lot “safer.” Maybe “lucid dreaming” (a skill that can be learned) could be one way to capture the true self when it emerges in a dream, and keep it there long enough to work with.

Most people don’t believe narcissists can be cured (and in most cases, they can’t be and are perfectly fine with being the way they are). That being said, I like to remain optimistic. I can’t believe there are people walking on this earth who have completely lost their souls. Unless a person has consciously chosen evil and has become sociopathic, I don’t think most narcissists are that far gone. The challenge is catching them when their guard is down, which is almost never. I don’t recommend you try doing this yourself. Leave it to the professionals or to God. You cannot fix a narcissist. All you can really do is stop giving them supply, so stay (or go) No Contact.

NPD mother.

Posted on March 18, 2016 by luckyotter

matchingoutfits

I read this post on City-Data.com tonight, and this sounds so much like my mother it’s not even funny. Even the time frame seems to be the same.

There is a difference though. My mother wasn’t above taking me to Sears, J.C Penny’s etc. to buy MY clothes, while she always shopped at Lord and Taylor’s for her own. Later, when we moved to New York, she bought her clothing at Bloomingdale’s but mine always came from Alexander’s (closed in 1992). Not that I minded (I didn’t care), but it’s interesting that I always got the “low rent” stuff.

As for the hairbands mentioned in this post, my mother always bought me elastic ones. At least they came in different colors. I doubt she would have bought me a glittery plastic hairband either if I had asked for one, although she probably would have let me wear one and griped about it endlessly. I remember she went nuts when I bought some pale blue nail polish and little decals to stick on my nails because of how “unnatural” and “tacky” it was, but she didn’t make me take it off. When I was around 5 or 6, she was also into those “mother and daughter” matching outfits that were so popular in the mid-196os. Perfect for creating a mini-me to perfectly mirror the narc mother’s impeccable taste.

glitter_hairband

I was an extension of my mother. And I reflected her beauty and taste.
I grew up in the 1960s and 1970s and attended public schools. But my sisters and I looked as though we were “high society” – but you wouldn’t know it.

While my friend’s parents bought their clothes at Sears, Penny’s or even Macy’s; my mother pronounced those stores as “common” – pretty much her absolute worst word for anything.

She took us to Lord and Taylor, B. Altman, and Bonwit Teller. Frequently, the suburban branches were not deemed “good enough”, so we were made to drive an hour into NYC to buy triplicate Scottish wool kilts or velvet portrait collar dresses for Christmas day.

Same with the dentist! She didn’t like the shape of my lateral incisors, and they were capped in 6th grade!

As with everything though, there was a dark side to all of this.

I really wanted to wear a plastic hair band in the summer. Some were pearly and others were glittery. I thought they were “beautiful”, I was seven and I liked things that sparkled! Everyone in my neighborhood and my day camp had them in many different colors!

She wouldn’t let me get one. Not one. I mean it was a hair band and not a tattoo! It was a fad one Summer forty years ago.

She did relent about hair bands towards the middle of the Summer and bought me a tortoise shell one. It was drab. It was tasteless. It didn’t stand out on my head the way the wonderful glittery ones and lavender pearl ones did.

Worse, for a seven year old, no props from my friends. They thought it was ugly.

I took it into the woods and snapped it in half.

One afternoon she asked what happened to “that thing that you forced me to buy for your hair”.

I told her that I’d lost it. Her reply “thank God”, followed by a snicker that confirmed that she was lacking in any empathy at all.

Shattered Dreams Poetry and Book.

Posted on March 12, 2016 by luckyotter

A reader of this blog wanted to share some of her poetry with me and I asked her if it was alright to share the poems with my readers because they really resonated for me and I think other readers of this blog who have been married to or divorced narcissistic men could definitely relate to her writings.

Rina Lynn has her own blog of poetry (Shattered Dreams Poetry) about coping with the emotional fallout of narcissistic abuse and divorcing a narcissist. Please take the time to visit her site.

She also has a book, Shattered Dreams: Poetry for Women Divorcing a Narcissist, by Rina Lynn and Kay Gardner, which is $4 on Amazon.

Here are some of her poems.

The Great Escape

There was a chick
Who pecked and chipped
A window in the wall
Scrunched she sat
Tightly packed
Smooshed into a ball

The shell seemed swell
She knew it well
But her heart knew it was time
She peered outside
While hard she tried
To pretend her life was fine

Then cracks began
To rip and span
The whole of the world she knew
She closed her eyes
And tried to hide
Spinning her lies anew

It’d be ok
If she stayed
She’d lived here all her life
Her life was hell
Inside her shell
But she was just a wife

One piece fell
From off her shell
She began to be quite frantic
She tried so hard
To fix the shards
You should have seen her antics

Then with a glance
She saw her chance
And knew it had to be
With one great heave
The halves did cleave
And all at once she’s free

The Puppet Master

He picks his victims carefully
Then reels them in
With hateful glee
Gives them all their heart desires
Inflames their senses…..
…..ignites a fire…..
Tells them all they wish to hear
Then he owns them…..
…..this puppeteer……
He speaks a word
And they try their best
His every whim
To manifest
It becomes a daily thing
Dangling his prey
Upon his strings
Their individuality begins to dim
Disappears into the world of ‘him’
Soon they are just instruments
Who live to make his life content….
……where did their will go?
……why do they stay?
…..why don’t they escape…..
……and leave the fray?

A war of attrition is being fought
They respond…..
…..the way they ‘ought’…..
Doing their best to please another
While their identity is smothered
You can’t see the forest
For the trees
You can’t escape
Till you ‘see’ the strings
And understand it’s just a game
…..to enslave you …..
…..and drive you insane…..
The thrill of the sport…..
…..a manipulative zest….
To prove to him
He is the ‘best’
All you are…..
…..is another conquest…..
Swelling his appetite
…..and selfish greed…..
On hurt and control
…..his evil heart feeds…..
If only his dupes
Could really see
They hold the scissors…..
……to cut the strings…..
Then……they could truly be free…..
Living a life…..free of his deeds

The Feces Inspector

I had a job i did
For fully half my life
I examined feces
In my role as a wife
My husband produced
It freely
It seemed to roll right out
I followed him discretely
Trying not to shout
I knew this wasn’t normal
it couldn’t be ok
I wondered just what caused it
Each and every day
So I began a quest
The origin to explain
I set up a lab
The truth to explicate

I wore rubber gloves
To scrutinize his manure
I checked out what I fed him
His routine & DNA
Puzzling perceptions
Grew more enormous
By the day
When digging thru the dung
Looking back it seems
The stench that it created
Stifled all my dreams
I smeared it on the slides
Peered into my microscope
The closer that I looked
The more I lost my hope
The manufactured crap
Continued all the while
When picking thru the pile
It was really hard to smile

So I resigned the job
Gave up my inspector hat
Someone else can have it
I’m not doing more of that
I cleaned up the counter
Swept & mopped the floor
Threw away my samples
Walked out and locked the door
…….then beamed with satisfaction

Anger Has Been Banished. It’s Time to Go Away

There’s another person
Who lives inside of me
She’s so very bound
That she can’t get free
Her given name is anger
And she’s very strong
She stands up to deal
With the things that’s wrong
When my voice is silent
Her voice rings out loud
She can speak to bad guys
She truly makes me proud
Others do not like it
When she’s in control
But I gave her permission
To protect my soul
Until she was allowed
My life was filled with pain
I needed her assistance
My self-esteem to gain
Now my life is better
The perpetrator’s gone
But anger just won’t leave me
She feels this is her home
She’s overstayed her welcome
Now she needs to leave
Unfortunately we’re at odds
We’ve really disagreed
I think I can manage
She thinks I’ll be deceived
Serenity won’t visit
If she stays around
She says she’s rude and ugly
And wears a constant frown
I really need the comfort
Of tranquility
Poise, content, composure
And equanimity
They say that she can visit
When there is a need
But for them to live here
Anger must concede
Backbone, strength, and power
Will take her place today
Anger has been banished
Peacefulness can stay
Honor says it’s time
And I will be ok
Anger you must listen
It’s time to go away

The Scapegoat

It’s your fault!
…..from the very first…..
No matter who is punished…..
……yours will be the worst…..
Everyone else is perfect
But.….you are very bad…..
You try your best
To please the rest
But…..somehow you just can’t
You talk too loud
Or not enough
Or leave dishes in the sink
Someone else messed them up
But, it’s your job to see they’re cleaned
You’re too big
Or too small
The opposite of what is best
You work the hardest
Try the most
But never please the rest
Their evil deeds
…..are swept under the rug
…..or simply attributed to you…..
Then you’re screamed at
…..and penalized…..
For what you didn’t do
Chastised, reproved
Castigated, reprimanded
Disciplined each day
The weight of someone else’s deeds
Is placed upon your plate
The lies that are their alibis
Sound grand to all who hear
No sympathy
Will come your way
Only boos, and sneers…..
After all……who would tell…..
….such outrageous things?
No one in their right mind
Could really be so mean
So…..to others….it has a
Truthful ring
Embarrassment…..humiliation
Becomes your garment donned
There’s no way
To convince the audience
That by a NARC they have been conned……
You hang your head
Accept the shame
….while more blame is piled on……
The scapegoat……
…..who bears the sins of the home…..
…..so no one else needs to atone…..

Shame

Shame is that feeling
That you aren’t enough
You feel as if
You should be
Made of stronger stuff
It’s hard to hold
Your head up
It’s like you don’t belong
No matter what you do
It seems to be all wrong
People laugh and whisper
Or.….that’s what you believe…..
To be on equal footing
Is something
You just can’t perceive
But you must remember
We are all alike
Made in God’s image
So stand right up and fight
Most of the time
When shame has held you down
Worn you to a frazzle
Esteem’s been tightly bound
It’s because of something
You’ve taken on yourself
You didn’t even do it
It was done by someone else
Maybe it’s your family
That has done the deed
Maybe it’s somebody
Else’s lifetime creed
You believe that you
Must measure
Yourself by their thoughts
But you can’t accomplish
All the things you ‘ought’
You deem yourself ‘guilty’
Picking up the weight
Shame brings upon you
It seems it is your fate
But look at this whole thing
From a different view
Why must you pay?
For things you didn’t do?
Throw off that fault
Break that felon’s thong
The offense wasn’t yours
You did nothing wrong
Let others stand in their corruption
And shame will slide right off
You didn’t do the crime
You mustn’t pay the cost!

A Little Girl

A little girl
Whose life was hell
Tried to be so good
She washed her face
And combed her hair
And did everything she “should”

And as she grew
Her “oughts” did too
The load grew hard to bear
As others refrained…
She accomplished great things…
So they handed her their cares

She took on blame…
She took on shame…
The people round her knew she would
They used
Abused
And taunted her
Because she was so good

Talented
Proficient
An expert at so much
Alone each day she waited
For a single loving touch

As life passed by
She began to cry
But none had time to listen
The family left
She felt bereft
With tears her eyes did glisten

With deep despair
She combed her hair
And did the daily chores
The song was gone
She carried on
Alone
As each day before

NPD mood cycles can mimic Bipolar disorder.

Posted on March 5, 2016 by luckyotter

I remembered something about my NPD ex tonight. He used to have mood swings that seemed in many ways reminiscent of Bipolar disorder. It was only later I realized what they really were–cycles of of grandiose entitlement and dejected self-pity. Whenever supply was abundant–such as when he was promoted at work–he became puffed up with pride and this resulted in an attitude of entitlement and grandiosity which he lorded over his subjects, namely me. He also seemed somewhat manic when he was in one of these grandiose phases. These were the times he was the most likely to become overtly abusive, both emotionally and physically. Instead of being happy the way a normal person might when thingsa are going well for them, my ex became hostile and prone to pick fights. I learned to dread the times in which good things happened to him, because that was when his narcissism seemed to go into overdrive.

When his supply was running low, he sank into deep depressions, in which he lost all his motivation and energy and spent most of his time staring dejectedly into space or sleeping (or pacing the house frantically at night). His “manic” behavior disappeared and he talked very little when he talked at all. When he did speak, it was to moan endlessly about how terrible his life was and how everyone had it in for him (nothing was ever his fault, and he was still assigning himself Center of the Universe status). He acted helpless and needy, and wallowed in self pity like a pig in mud. He sometimes threatened suicide (but never attempted it–narcissists generally don’t). As annoying as his depressed moods were, I preferred him that way because he was less overtly abusive (though still abusive in a covert, manipulative way). He acted a lot “crazier” in his depressive states and suffered terrible panic attacks on a regular basis. This actually fits with an NPD diagnosis: when a narcissist isn’t getting any supply and their victims aren’t cooperating, they begin to feel like they don’t exist, and can become very depressed and dissociated. The dissociation can lead to severe panic attacks and even psychotic episodes.

The terms “covert narcissism” and “overt narcissism” aren’t mutually exclusive. A covert narcissist (the depressed, “fragile” type) will usually become more overt (grandiose) when supply is high. A grandiose (overt) type will sink to a more covert form of narcissism when supply is low. The two types of narcissism are really just two halves of the same personality disorder. Grandiose narcissists are thought of as being high achievers, but that may be because since they get more positive supply to begin with, they have more reason to act grandiose.

Before I put two and two together and realized my ex’s bizarre mood swings were in direct proportion to how much praise and recognition from others he was getting, I was sure he had Bipolar disorder. Unlike most narcissists, he did see a psychiatrist (mainly to get meds for his depressions and anxiety; there was little to no desire on his part to improve himself), who actually gave my ex a Bipolar diagnosis.

The most common type of Bipolar disorder is what used to be called Manic Depression. During a manic phase, the patient is likely to be extremely hyper, grandiose, testy, and quick to anger. They have an unrealistic sense of their own invincibility that doesn’t line up with reality. This is very similar to the grandiose phase of someone with NPD.

The covert (depressed) phase of NPD can look extremely similar to the depressive phase of Bipolar disorder. The main difference is, a narcissist will generally not follow through on suicide threats (because they are intended to manipulate and garner sympathy, a form of supply) while someone who is Bipolar is in grave danger of suicide. A bipolar patient can also be helped by medication, while there is no effective medication for NPD (although antidepressants and anti-anxiety drugs can help with some of the symptoms).

Further reading:

The Relationship Between Narcissism and Bipolar Disorder

Do borderlines have a “false self”?

Posted on February 12, 2016 by luckyotter

One of the takeaways I got from my therapy session tonight, was that as someone with BPD, I do have a false self, but it’s not the same kind of false self a person with NPD has.

Actually, almost everyone has a false self. Whenever you’re polite to someone you don’t like, tell a “white lie,” put on your “best face” in a job interview, or act happy at the dreadful office Christmas party, that’s your false self in action. In the non-disordered, it’s called a social self, and is necessary to be able to function in the world. People who have no social self self at all are people who have no idea how to act in social situations, and just say whatever is on their mind. They care nothing about making a good impression or sparing someone’s feelings. There are people like this, but they’re usually living on the edges of society. Most people aren’t very comfortable having to wear this social self, but know they must in order to function in the world.

Narcissistic Personality Disorder and Borderline Personality Disorder are both Cluster B (emotional, dramatic, erratic) disorders and both involve serious disruptions in a person’s sense of self. In both disorders, the true self was compromised at an early age because the parents or caregivers failed to mirror the child’s growing sense of self. The false self is a defense mechanism and stands in for the compromised true self, which in the case of someone with NPD, can no longer be accessed.

But there are differences. In a person with NPD, the false self is an intractable, permanent structure and is stable. What this means is that a person with NPD has become someone else. The mask they wear becomes who they are, and any threat of exposure by another for the lie it really is will be viciously attacked or the perpetrator devalued. That’s why you can never criticize a narcissist.

The NPD false self is also stable, meaning it doesn’t change much. For example, a somatic, grandiose narcissist has built an entire identity around their physical appearance and uses every opportunity to make sure everyone knows how physically perfect they are. Because so much effort has gone into building this identity, the narcissist is unlikely to have developed any other abilities or strengths. A person with NPD pretty much lives full-time as their false self, and rarely, if ever, show others any glimpses of their true self, which in the worst cases, is so inaccessible to them it may as well not exist. If the false self is ripped away (this can be done by denying a narcissist any supply), and there is no more supply to be had (this sometimes happens to elderly narcissists, who can no longer rely on looks, youth, career or financial success to boost their egos), what is revealed is a person so empty, depressed, or dissociated they may require hospitalization or may even attempt suicide. Some may voluntarily enter treatment, but if their fortunes change, they start to feel better and are likely to quit therapy. Schizophrenic symptoms in a degraded narcissist isn’t unusual.

NPD is difficult to treat because the false self is so intractable and all-emcompassing, the person has little to no insight into themselves or even realize it’s they who have the problem. Because they tend to project their unacceptable emotions onto others, they’re far more likely to blame others for things they have really brought on themselves.

In Borderlines, the false self manifests more as a series of temporary masks, adapted to suit certain situations or people. People with BPD are emotional chameleons. Their dramatic mood swings and changeability are due to constant mask-switching and the stress this causes them. The BPD false self is not well developed and it often fails them, causing them emotional distress. The BPD false self (really false selves) is unstable, permeable, and easily shattered, frequently revealing the empty, dissociated, depressed true self. Because it’s not a permanent structure, BPDs don’t require narcissistic supply to keep it “alive” (they’re more likely to become codependent to a narcissist). They can seem “crazier” than people with NPD, but they are more easily treated because they spend at least some of the time without their masks on.

The Pool Guy: a story about narcissism (part 2 of 2)

Posted on February 6, 2016 by luckyotter

Continued from Part One.

Here are the final installments of the saga of a wealthy, grandiose narcissist obliging his neighbor (who wrote these posts) to be his “pool guy”– a source of narcissistic supply and target of intermittent abuse and love bombing.

The Pool Guy (continued)

He painted the pool guy black [devalued/discarded a pool man he had previously hired]. He went on a crusade to prove how easy it is to do what that “incompetent fool” can’t do. He spent a fortune in money and time. My neighbor paid twice as much to have an employee from the pool store come by and show him how to do it.

He’s completely incapable of hiring a pool guy. When I left him with that choice, he mentally split. I knew I’d seen that look. I was braced for silence, brooding, etc. Instead, he was flip, glib, non-nonchalant. He already had that episode scripted.

His admirers (me, his source of socializing; his realtor who stands to make $20,000) will deal with it. If we don’t, he’ll have another nice chapter for his narrative. Sources of supply let him down, and even the realtor can’t live with $20k. “Taking care of the pool — which is such a simple thing to do, I know, I’ve proven it to myself. He couldn’t work a little harder for $20k. It’s his fault it took longer to sell. Yes! That’s it! It’s his fault. He thought he could just bring people through the house and it would sell it self. Typical loser. He probably voted for Obama! Yes! That’s it.”

I could actually come out on the winning end if I were more in the psychopathy spectrum. I could send him emails saying how I’m surprised that realtor didn’t let my neighbor know the pool turned green in 4 days. Or, imply the realtor is one of those guys who voted for Obama. “What’s he thinking. The pool’s green and he wonders why it’s not selling! He thinks $20k should just come to him without doing anything to earn it!”

It’s been two days. I’ll walk over there in a couple hours. I might toss a couple scoops of magic powder in the pool. But, my position is that I agreed to walk around and be his eyes and ears. Help coordinate anything that needs to be done. I’ll leave the hose on a slow flow (to top the pool off, instead of having to watch it and constantly take action).

I think the realtor is having Open House. I should walk over and broach the topic with him. That’s the most I’ll get involved. Otherwise, I’ll wait till it spins out and let my neighbor know. He’ll probably call the guy at the pool store to come and do it. It will cost him more than paying a monthly fee for regular service. But, it’s just not in his vocabulary to do that.

I’m not worried about it. I won’t “play” it to my advantage. I was being sarcastic about that. But, I do imagine he’ll hold it against the realtor. He’s already bad-mouthing the realtor for not trying hard enough.

When I consider my position in the matter: I could try to keep it up. The risk to me is that it would turn into a project. I would try to make it perfect. I’d feel responsible. (The inverted or compensatory N, self-sacrificing). Then I would get bitter for what I give and how little I receive in return. It would turn into a blow-up and me disliking him.

I can probably do a little to keep it in shape (so it’s not a green 4-day disaster) without my traits taking over. I don’t think I have to “stand my ground” against what is clearly his manipulation. My self-awareness should allow for better than that.

I’m going to walk over there right now.

I just returned. The realtor seemed distant, short, unpleasant. I think I could see quickly what’s going on. My neighbor’s making the realtor earn his $20k, taking it out of his hide. Criticizing everything the realtor does, expecting perfection. He’s blaming the realtor for the house not selling at the inflated price my neighbor first picked. (My neighbor can’t look at it in the context of having bought the house for his son to go to college. It was just an expense. Now it has to be a huge return on investment. His son’s education living in relative comfort and security wasn’t the return.).

I suspect that part of that narrative is that I’m my neighbor’s trusted ears and eyes. My neighbor probably gave the realtor a verbal beating and let him know his absence won’t make a difference. I suspect the realtor sees me as an extension of my neighbor. I’ll say something, leading to more unpleasantly.

I touched upon the topic of the pool. I think I broke through some ice and I subtly let him know we have the same concerns. I think he believed my neighbor “tainted” me and I was on the lookout to give my neighbor ammunition. A home-buyer arrived and the realtor said he would call me soon.

***

This was the last post until the end of October, when the forum member began to have problems with his narcissist neighbor again. The neighbor’s pool was again the ammunition used to torment him.

My narcissistic neighbor put the house on the market and left me to keep an eye on the place. He expected me to take care of the pool which I made clear I wasn’t comfortable with. When he left, he treated it as if would be taken care of between me and the real estate agent, and he would return in September if the house didn’t sell. “Somehow it will all work out” (expecting me to do it even though I said “no.”).

Well, we’re entering November and there have been “complications.”

While here he groused about the people who work at a retail store he owns. (The same way he groused about the property management company who rented the house for a year or two. And, the pool guy who did something not to his standards. Also, the real estate agent who wasn’t working hard enough.). He was going to go home and sell the store. Well, the first thing he did was fire everyone and ran the place himself.

That was the first clue he wasn’t coming back.

Then he was going to rent it, and maybe I could look after minor issues with tenants (pay me for my time). I asked if he would have a pool guy, and he said he would let the tenants care for the pool. (I know how that works. It turns into a mess, leading to maintenance work.). I expressed my concern about that, how usually the cost of a pool guy is rolled into the rent so there’s no surprises.

He could tell I wasn’t eager to do it, so he called some property management companies. But, he didn’t get a good feeling about them (probably jaded about them like he is about pool guys).

Then, he extended the for-sale listing (with the real estate agent he doesn’t like). He expected the pool stuff to continue as it was.

Then, something happened which required the house be taken off the market. (A repair must be made. Nothing serious, but it could stand out as poorly done if not done right.).

So, 3-4 weeks ago I became the sole pool guy (because the real estate agent stops by now).

He has contacted some people to do the repair, only one has come by to see it. But, that repair guy didn’t call the neighbor with the info. I explained to my neighbor the repair guy did mention a price, but I assumed he would call my neighbor since I’m in the middle (nothing was written, etc.).

That was a week ago. I just communicated that I hadn’t heard from anyone else, and asked if he heard from that repair guy. (I also needed to let him know the pool condition is deteriorating.). He said “no. It appears nothing will get done until I’m there.”

I think he realized it’s a little more complicated than the average Craigslist advertiser can be trusted to do. There are 3 ways to do it, and none are perfect. (Especially not to him. The only perfect way to to do it is if he does it — but he fired everyone…. and so on, and so on.).

That’s how he is. He’s probably in the middle of a huge narcissistic injury with his business. The house was a disappointment. And now it’s rolling down to me. (Exactly how I envisioned.).

This makes me realize how glad I am to be self-aware. The feeling was more novel in June/July when he was here. Now I feel more accomplished at it. For example, before awareness I would have been emotionally invested in being “the guy” taking care of things, responsible for additional profit from the sale, etc. As expectations changed I would have taken it personally (injured, taken advantage of). That would trigger him into one of his “I knew it, you’re like the rest, a bum!” I would have taken it personally (not recognizing my own reckless exposure to it).

So, I spared myself that indignity (even though he would like me to feel co-responsible, which I can understand because I would do the same thing.).

Now I guess I need to contact the repair guy and ask him to call the 4-year old (because the 4-year old won’t do it.). But, I also think my neighbor wouldn’t let him do the work because of the potential for it to come out badly. I think blaming the repair guy is merely convenient.

So, I’m probably stuck for another two months.

It irritates me because I made it clear a dozen times I don’t want to have anything to do with the pool. Even on his last day here when he bought me my dinner and then sprung it on me how he expected me to take care of the pool… and then his whole demeanor changed when I said “no,” and I knew I had seen that look before. He fast-forwarded in his narrative to how that’s going to work when he’s disappointed (forgetting how I told him “no.”).

I tie today’s snitty reply *directly* back to that affect/personality change I detected at dinner when I said “no.” He was imagining this moment. (A Pavlovian salivation at the tasty supply which awaits.). I know that look because I do it too. (“You’re not going to do these things for me after I imagined you doing them? Ok, that works too. You can be the good guy, or the bad guy.”).

It’s interesting how I knew this was how it would go. There were times I was concerned I was being too uncooperative (invulnerable). But, I was right. If I had given into my eagerness to be the shining star, I’d be having a serious (self-induced) injury/rage right now.

I was tempted to assert my “no” when he put me in this position. But, there was a real estate agent involved too. I thought I could help out. But, I’m starting to let him know it’s not working out. He knows it’s starting to deteriorate and I don’t know what to do. (He knows someone at a pool store who he thinks he can fall back on to do it. The weather is cooler so it won’t get too bad now.).

It’s strange how he has to do everything himself. I asked how the sale of the store is going, and when he think’s he’ll return. I don’t want to put him in a bind being hundreds of miles from his property. I don’t mind keeping an eye on things. But, the pool part of it is irritating me. He’s going to have to get a pool guy or be prepared for it not being perfect when he gets here.

That’s what makes me nervous is that he has huge expectations on everyone else (but never notices he doesn’t do much better).

I’ve been beating around the bush about how the pool won’t be in good shape when he returns, and how it probably needs one of those weekly people. I’ve also asked when he’s coming back. All I get in reply is how it would be nice if I could do the best I could with it. (He doesn’t respond to how the sale of his business is going, or when he thinks he’s coming back.).

What really irritates me is that he spent over $2k on fake furniture to make it look nice. (It’s a common practice in the US.). But, he won’t spend $30 a week on a pool guy.

I think he imagined me to be “his buddy.” He returned home (to the drama he was planning, firing the employees, selling the business, knowing full well he wasn’t coming back in 6 weeks) and boast about how he’s got “a guy” taking care of his stuff here. It’s power! (“He’s my eyes and ears.”). To the extent I don’t perform, he can talk about how someone he thought was “his guy” disappointed him, left him with a big mess to take care of, etc. (He’s probably having a problem selling the business and saying “and on top of all this, I’ve got a guy taking care of my stuff… but he’s not working out. I must return there and take care of something. If I weren’t Superman…”).

At least it’s a learning experience. I saw it coming. I should have been firmer with the boundaries. I could probably still hire a pool guy and charge my neighbor that price for taking care of the pool. (He keeps saying he’ll pay me, as he ignores how I’m telling him…). Maybe I should do that. (“I spent 2 hours on the pool this week. At $15 per hour… Oh, you think that’s too much?” Then he’ll complain that “the guy taking care of my stuff is gouging me.”).

At least his expectations are set. And, more importantly, so were mine from the beginning. Honestly, all I hear is a plea to just do it because he needs to feel like people will do things for him. That’s *all* I hear. Money, it doesn’t matter. “I just want *you* to do it because I don’t have anyone else acting like they like me.”

I don’t recall how old he is. Almost 70. He lived his life accumulating a lot. He said he had to start “preparing” (downsizing, getting things in order). That’s probably a difficult/harsh reality he’s facing (relative to the capability/power he wielded and impressed himself with. I suspect the sale of the business is not turning out as he hoped. It’s not as valuable as it once was. He’s probably liquidating it at a loss. That’s probably an injury (raging at the parent company, the employees he “carried” and made a living for years, himself for not getting out sooner). Now the house is a tar baby.

The weather is colder now, therefore the pool maintenance isn’t an issue like it would have been in the summer. I just drop a couple tablets in the chlorine dispenser 1-2 times a week. That’s not much more than the letting myself in 2 times a week to check on the house.

I’ve made it clear to him that it’s going downhill, he needs a weekly service person, and without that it will need work when he returns. His expectations are set. I’m sure he’s using that as part of his narrative to people he associates with where he’s at. I don’t care. (I knew how he is when I agreed to watch the place, then got suckered into co-caring for the pool with the real estate agent.).

Read Part One here: https://luckyottershaven.com/2016/02/05/the-pool-guy-a-story-about-narcissism/

The Pool Guy: a story about narcissism (part 1 of 2)

Posted on February 5, 2016 by luckyotter

Some of you who read this blog are probably aware that from August – December, I self-identified as a covert narcissist. I won’t get into the reason why here (that’s been explained elsewhere and I don’t wish to go there again), but I was wrong (thank God!). But during that period of time, I posted on a self-help forum for people with NPD. Most of the posters believed they were covert narcissists (few of them had an official diagnosis). I’m not sure most of them were even narcissists at all, but just thought they were (same as me). If you’ve been “infected” by narcissists all your life, you can develop a bad case of “fleas” and display narcissistic traits, without actually developing the disorder. It can be very confusing and it’s fairly common for people with complex PTSD or Borderline Personality Disorder to believe they have NPD. (According to most experts though, if you believe you have NPD, you do not).

That out of the way, one of the “covert narcissists” on the forum in question, who may or may not have been one (I don’t think he was) told the story of how a bigger, badder narc turned him into a source of continual supply and constantly took advantage of and abused him, using every trick in the narcissist’s playbook. The victimized man, who tells the story, seemed like a codependent type to me. If he really is a covert narcissist, the story makes sense because when covert and grandiose narcissists appear together, the covert one will nearly always be in the codependent, victim role.

Since the tale he tells is so entertaining and hilarious as written, and because he has an enormous amount of insight and knowledge about NPD (impressive if he actually has the disorder!), I’m just going to quote his ongoing posts about his wealthy neighbor who was feeding off him like a bloodsucking leech, turning him into his “pool guy” and making his life a living hell last summer.

Since the story was told in quite a few posts on the forum and is going to be quite long (and the man is long-winded), I’m going to put this up in at least two posts.

The Pool Guy

My neighbor is here preparing his home for sale. He was here almost two years ago and we went to dinner then. He’s narcissistic. Very successful in life. Owned many businesses, bought/sold many properties. Lives on a beach. Very high standards, complains about others. He’s not disordered.

So, this is my first post-awareness experience. I’ve noticed myself catching why it’s comfortable to be with an overt/grandiose narcissist.

1. I notice I get supply from him describing his successes. There’s a definite “trickle down” feeling, like “he’s who I wanted to be, and he recognizes me as a worthy helper. I’m special because he likes me.”

2. We’ve gone to dinner a couple times. With others I would struggle to find things to talk about. It’s work to do it, and I don’t enjoy it. With him, when the awkward silence begins, all I have to do is ask him about one of his restored classic cars and he’ll start talking for 10 minutes.

And then I’m back to #1.

3. He took me to dinner last night. We stopped at a parrot store. (I love parrots. I go to this store occasionally and sit with a bird for an hour. They seem to have the same emotional maturity I do.). I found a friendly macaw and put it on his arm. I took a picture of him with the macaw. He said he would put it on his Facebook, send them to relatives, etc.

Last night I emailed the photos to him and felt kind of manic’y like I the attention he would receive belonged to me.

Summary. It’s very different now. I see what I’m doing as I do it. That halts my mental process which would typically grow to large proportions — and then butt-hurt (narcissistic injury) when reality didn’t keep up with my inner narrative.

[…]Last night I could recognize why I react the way I do (use this synergy for my benefit). I could equate it to the “inner narrative” and choose to consider more realistic thoughts about myself. Which in turn leads me to treat him more like a person than a source of supply. I end up feeling better about myself for dealing with someone realistically.

After spending a fortune and countless hours making his pool a paler shade of green, he informs me today he will leave on Saturday. Furthermore, he instructs, we are going to dinner tonight and Friday night. He’s buying. Anywhere I want.

I thought that was exceptionally nice.

So, we go tonight and, after the waitress places our order, my neighbor begins “asking” if I can keep an eye on his house, nothing big, and he’ll give me a key (which gave me that giddy feeling). All I have to do is walk through every couple days.

Sure! I can do that.

Then I ask, “you’ve got a pool guy, right?” He replies, “No, I thought you could do that. It’s amazingly simple. Of course, I would pay you for your time.” I began looking over my shoulder to see if it was too late to cancel my order. I realized I’d been setup.

Buying me a meal would have worked before I was self-aware. Weeks later I would have raged against myself — while absorbing the cost so I would still be seen as the narcissist’s favorite.

This time I told him I wasn’t comfortable with it. I’m not good with pools. (He knows that’s why I had mine dynamited 20 years ago. The largest ball and chain of my life!). He was disappointed. I was really tempted to give in, thinking I was being needlessly inflexible. But, then I remembered how much blood and treasure he spilled proving he was better than the pool guy — and he expectsme to be better than the pool guy too. So, I stuck to it, repeating I’m not good with pools. I never claimed to be. I’m retarded that way. (There’s a concrete carcass buried in my backyard to prove it.).

He dropped it suddenly and it was no problem. I thought he might brood, letting me know I’m on the “outs.” But, he was fine after that. I felt really good about how I’m able to navigate my old traits. I almost got caught off guard.

Later I realized I could have actually handled it even better. His whole thing is a bitter (and failed) rivalry with the pool guy. I should have cheerfully accepted what he as going to let me do for him. I could then hire a pool guy — charging my neighbor whatever the pool guy charges me. I could have saved him the humiliation!

Today I stepped into something a little by accident. He’s on a quixotic mission to fix a pool problem (in response to the pool guy screwing him). We’re also fixing a block wall and I have a masonry saw, so I cut some blocks for him. I noticed him in his back yard, so I thought I’d take the blocks back their for him.

I saw the pool was getting a greenish tint and just blurted out “oh wow, you’re getting some algae. You didn’t have that a couple days ago when you showed me what was wrong. Is it getting worse?”

Oh no. That was a narcissistic injury to him. I didn’t recognize it immediately. But, I could tell he was strewing about something, throwing more barbs than normal. He finally said something criticizing. I started feeling a narcissistic injury (Omg! He’s borrowing all my stuff! Using my internet! It would be so easy to hold his head underwater right now.). But, only 15 seconds into that feeling I dismissed it, knowing he’s narcissistic. It’s about him, not me. But, a little later I realized I caused it by voicing my thoughts carelessly.

So, it’s been interesting being in what would normally be an inverted relationship, keeping closer tabs on myself. I feel good about it.

poolman3

I had dinner with him last night (Monday night) after not seeing him since early Friday morning helping him fix his fence.

1. He wanted to drive to Mexico for the weekend because the realtor was having “Open House” both days. I gave him a lot of info as if he’d go himself.

I normally would jump on something like that to be the “tour guide.” I would live in his memory, associated with what could only be described as a documentary-quality tour of [whatever]. Why be modest? Epic.

However, more than not being eager to visit the birthplace of diarrhea, I just really needed some space from the narcissism. So, I didn’t volunteer to do anything with him either Sat. or Sun. I gave him the self-directed tour info and played it like he was going. I didn’t ask any questions.

I was reminded of _____’s thread about feeling awkward saying no. I felt bad because I knew he didn’t go. I knew he had to be out of the house for 8 hours both days. I felt like I wasn’t being a good citizen. I assume he suffered narcissistic injury because he didn’t invite me to go with him wherever he went. I would have probably done one day with him.

But, I decided I’m not responsible for him. I’ve helped him as a neighbor, I’ll continue to go to dinner or show him around town. But, not every day. I shouldn’t have to explain that nor be embarrassed. I treated it like I’m doing the normal thing.

2. We went to dinner last night.

OMG. It was like the “inner dialog” was bottled up. It was non-stop and sounded rehearsed like he’s had the conversation with himself for 3.5 days. I literally could not get a word in edgewise. Every time I tried to say something, he’d interrupt like he knew what I was going to say (so I didn’t need to say it) and proceeded to the rehearsed conversation.

It’s really interesting to see this now with my awareness. Compared to how I would normally get drawn in, reacting to “my kind of language,” I feel detached like watching a tv show. It’s totally different. Not so much analyzing him, but knowing my own reflexive behavior and controlling it (except for last Thursday when I thought I was proving my intelligence by pointing out his pool was getting worse. Ooops.).

In my previous update I described how he dropped the subject abruptly, but wasn’t injured. That threw me off. I thought something wasn’t right.

Last night we went to dinner. He asked me if I could watch the water level “since I’m going to be walking through the house every other day or so. Just top it off with my hose (which remains there).” I said “Sure. But, how often will your pool guy come around. He’ll do that too, right?” He had a puzzled look on his face, like we’d talked about this before, and proceeded to say there won’t be a pool guy. He’s only going to be gone two months and he “just added chemicals today, so it should be ok for that long.”

I’m being put in a position to “just do it.” There’s no way it’s going to be “ok” longer than 3-4 days. When he “flipped” two nights ago, he just didn’t care. I knew I knew that look. He already had Plan-B in his mind and that’s what happened.

So, I guess I’ll be informing him in 3-4 days that the chemicals are exhausted. I’ll probably hire a pool guy and charge him like it’s my time. He’ll never know he was affiliated with one of those guys whose entire profession he painted black.

He said he asked the realtor to throw a couple scoops of the magic powder in the pool whenever the realtor shows the house. “So, it should be ok.” I’ll talk to the realtor and see if he has any qualms about this arrangement. Maybe we can conspire together. He probably knows a pool guy. I can pass it along to my neighbor like it’s my time (which he said he’d pay me).

Continued in Part 2: https://luckyottershaven.com/2016/02/06/the-pool-guy-a-story-about-narcissism-part-2-of-2/

The 7 things narcissists are most afraid of.

Posted on January 25, 2016 by luckyotter

I was actually going to try to post funny search terms again, but alas, they were just not funny, so I nixed that idea. However, I did find one that inspired me to write this post:

what 6 things are narcissist most scared of

It’s a good question. Are narcissists afraid of anything? You bet they are, and there are 7 things that scare them silly, not just 6.

1. Abandonment and rejection.

Narcissists can’t stand being rejected or abandoned. That’s why they fly into rages and punish and threaten you if you threaten to leave them, and love bomb you if you do manage to get away. To reject a narcissist means you are rejecting the false self they have so carefully constructed to impress you. To reject that false self negates their entire reason for existing, since whatever true self they may have left is completely inaccessible to them and the false self cannot survive on its own; it’s completely dependent on the approval and attention of others, who it feeds from like a vampire. When you reject a narcissist they are forced to confront their own emptiness and nothing scares them more than that. They will fight tooth and nail to avoid it, even if it means they have to destroy you in the process.

2. Being made fun of.

Credit: Quacksquared

Narcissists have no sense of humor. Nada. None. Zero. Zip. They may laugh cruelly at you when you fall and break your arm, and they may chuckle at the discomfort of someone else (since they have almost no empathy), especially if the discomfort was caused by them (because remember, to them you are not a real person but an object), but they are completely incapable of ever laughing at themselves.

A few years ago on a forum I posted on, there was a man who became enraged when someone wrote “LOL” at a joke someone else made at his expense (the joke wasn’t very offensive), and from then on he gave both of them the silent treatment. They take themselves very, very seriously and are very, very sensitive. But that sensitivity doesn’t extend toward anyone but themselves. The reason they are so bothered by jokes at their expense and can’t laugh at themselves is because the self they present to the world is a false one that must be propped up and supported at all times by everyone else. To poke fun at a narcissist is to poke fun at a self that’s as empty inside as a puppet. It has no substance. It will fall to pieces and then the narcissist is forced to confront that terrifying emptiness that constantly haunts them.

3. Being disrespected.

No one likes to be treated with disdain or disrespect, but the narcissist is downright phobic about it. He or she worries about it all the time and imagines slights and personal attacks even where they don’t exist. Again, it boils down to the false self which he or she must constantly keep propped up. It’s your job to puff it up and inflate it constantly lest it collapse into a limp pile of flimsy rubber. Disrespecting a narcissist is like popping a hole in their balloon-self and they feel like they are going to die. To avoid this, a narcissist uses every defense mechanism they have in their arsenal–gaslighting, rages, silent treatment, lying, projection, denial, fabricating, and false affection–to keep you inflating their balloon-self so they don’t have to acknowledge the horror of recognizing they have lost their real one.

4. Being ignored.

This is a no-brainer. Ignoring a narcissist means giving them no supply at all, and without narcissistic supply, the narcissist dies a slow death. Or believes they will. That’s why some narcissists would even rather be hated than be ignored. Negative attention is still attention, and at least it provides acknowledgement that they still exist. When you ignore a narcissist, it’s as frightening to them as being killed. They’re no longer confident they exist without your attention.

5. Exposure.

If you call out a narcissist on their abusive behavior, they will usually become very angry. Their anger might be expressed in rage or in more covert means such as the silent treatment or gaslighting you. They don’t like to be held accountable for the things they do to others, because that means they have to admit they are less than perfect. It also means they have to acknowledge the humanity of someone else, which they aren’t capable of doing. Narcissists are all too aware of their imperfections, but only at the subconscious level, and the way they handle this is to project their own imperfections onto you. So a narcissist might tell you that YOU are the narcissistic one, or that YOU are the abuser. They’re also good at getting others to side against you, and those people become their flying monkeys. They will accuse you of doing things that they themselves have done and everyone believes them and not you.

You start to feel like you’re living in a hellish world of smoke and mirrors, where you’re no longer sure what’s real and what isn’t. The narcissist has, unconsciously or consciously, set up this elaborate lie as a massive defense mechanism against being exposed as imperfect and flawed just like everyone else, because being forced to acknowledge their shortcomings is to expose their vulnerabilities, and being vulnerable is incredibly terrifying to them. They blame so they don’t have to feel shame.

6. Loss of the trappings of youth and success.

As narcissists age, they often grow even more abusive (a very few may improve–but they probably weren’t high spectrum to begin with). That’s because aging means a loss of looks, career, health, possibly even a spouse (who provides a narcissist with supply), and in some cases even financial solvency. All these things are proof to a narcissist that they still have value and are still admired and respected.

Somatic narcissists, who are most concerned with their health or physical appearance, have never developed other aspects of themselves that could be fallen back on when those things begin to go; that’s because the false self is a flimsy one-dimensional construct and is incapable of love, true attachment, friendship, and other things that the rest of us can fall back on when we’re old and not in such great physical shape or health anymore. If someone has spent their entire lives only concerned with their appearance, once that goes, what’s left?

Cerebral narcissists, who are concerned with their intellectual ability or business acumen, may be able to hang onto those assets a bit longer, but eventually, their minds may begin to become less sharp or they may be forced to retire or reduce their hours working. Having to retire is a huge blow to a narcissist whose entire identity is tied up in his or her career and earning ability. What is left?

In both cases, a narcissist experiences an almost total loss of supply and to avoid the ensuing depression, they lash out and attack others like angry dogs. That’s why old narcissists are so often cranky and mean. They’re also terrified of death, the last thing on the list that terrifies them.

7. Death.

Every narcissist I’ve ever known lives in mortal terror of death. That’s because death is the ultimate loss of narcissistic supply. Death means complete annihilation of the ego and there’s nothing more horrifying to a narcissist than that because their ego is all they are. Personally, I think some also fear hell. They know on some deep level how badly they’ve treated and exploited others and think they might be held accountable for it in the afterlife. I’ve seen a lot of narcissists who suddenly become extremely religious in their old age. I think that’s because they think by being religious, they may be able to ward off any accountability after they die.

Grumpy old men: narcissists in old age.

Posted on September 20, 2015 by luckyotter

It’s been said narcissists grow worse with age. As they lose their looks and mental acuity and become less sexually desirable and more unemployable, they lose the ability to attract the supply they need to feel like they exist. Most will fall into deep depression and a few might even commit suicide. Growing old and having to confront one’s own mortality is the ultimate narcissistic injury. The only thing they have left to obtain supply is their advanced age itself.

Some will become the stereotypical “get off my lawn” grouchy old man or woman, demanding their entitlements (or what they think are their entitlements) be met, no matter how unreasonable. They don’t bother with “charm.” They don’t even try to hide their self-centeredness or contempt for others anymore or make any attempt to be “nice.” They’ve given up playing the games they used to attain supply when they had their youth, looks, and health. They know they have nothing they can use anymore to attract respect, admiration, adulation, and attention, so they just demand and yell and cuss and bully other people to get it, using their age as an excuse to be mean.

These are people who reach the age of 70, 80 and 90 and are still emotional 3-year-olds. They are filled with hate for the world and for what has been done to them to make them that way (unresolved childhood trauma), for what they have become, and regret for what they never could be. They project their self-hatred onto anyone who crosses their path.

I read this description of what one old narcissist was like. It’s sad but all too true. I’ve known people like this. I see my ex becoming one.

I’ve seen old narcissists. I used to see a 72’ish guy at the grocery store. It was awful. He would angrily force himself to the front of the line. Each person he pushed in front of and angrily exclaimed “I only have 3 things” was as much a source of supply as the supply I would extort through more elegant means. He was down to the point of just taking it. The more people acted startled and offended, but withheld their protests due to his age and frailty, the more he felt he existed.

He would reach the cashier and then insist that the price is wrong, putting the cashier in the position of holding up all those kind folks he cut in front of. It’s not his fault they’re being inconvenienced. Then he’d demand a new “shopper/loyalty card” to get the discounts — why saying “I don’t want it, throw it away.” Too important to be bothered with carrying a card like everyone else. Probably some long-held criticism that stores should just charge the same price for everything and not do the “member price” gimmick. Something he could criticize in the past, now something he could incorporate into his bitter existence.

He would then contemptuously instruct the cashier to take the coins from his hand because his fingers are knurled from arthritis. Projecting onto the cashier his own contempt for his body failing his grandiosity. As he walked away, he would throw his receipt on the floor as if he had been intentionally offended by receiving it.