Abuse, Trauma, and Torture - Their Consequences and Effects (20 page)

When MY pathological envy gets
triggered, I will be bluntly honest about it. I'll say something
self-pitying, such as: 'You always get the good stuff, and I get
nothing'; 'You're so much better than I'; 'People like you better –
you have good social skills and I'm a jerk'; and so on. Or I might
even get hostile and sarcastic: 'Well, it must be nice to have so
many people worshipping you, isn't it?' I don't try to convince
myself that the other person's success isn't real or worthwhile,
etc. Instead, I'm totally flooded with the pain of feeling utterly
inferior and worthless – and there's no way for me to convince
myself or anyone else otherwise. I'm not saying that the things I
say are pleasant to hear – and it is still manipulative of me to
say them, because the other person's attention is drawn away from
their joy and onto my pain and hostility. And instead of doubting
their success's worth or reality, they feel guilty about it, or
about talking about it, because it hurts me so much. So from the
other person's point of view, maybe it's not any easier to live
with a partial narcissist than with a full-blown, in that their
joys and successes lead to pain in both cases. It's certainly not
easier for me, being flooded with rage and pain instead of being
able to hide behind a delusion of grandeur. But from my therapist's
point of view, I'm much better off because I know I'm unhappy –
it's in my face all the time. So I'm motivated to work on it and
change it. And time has borne her words out. Over the past several
years that I've worked on this issue, I have changed a great deal
in how I deal with it. Now when the envy gets triggered, I don't
feel so entwined with the other person – I recognise that it's my
OWN pain getting triggered, not something they are doing to me. And
so I can acknowledge the pain in a more responsible way, taking
ownership of it by saying, 'The jealousy feelings are getting
triggered again, and I'm feeling worthless and inferior. Can you
reassure me that I'm not?' That's a lot better than making some
snide, hostile, or self-pitying comment that puts the other person
on the defensive or makes them feel guilty… I do prefer the term
'partial' because that's what it feels like to me. It's like a
building that's partially built – the house of narcissism. For me,
the structure is there, but not the outside, so you can see inside
the skeleton to all the junk that's inside. It's the same junk
that's inside a full-blown narcissist, but their building is
completed, so you can't see inside. Their building is a fortress,
and it's almost impossible to bring it down. My defences aren't as
strong … which makes my life more difficult in some ways because I
REALLY feel my pain. But it also means that the house can be
brought down more easily, and the junk inside cleaned
out…"

Thinking about the Past and the
World

"I don't usually get rageful
about the past. I feel sort of emotionally cut-off from the past,
actually. I remember events very clearly, but usually can't
remember the feelings. When I do remember the feelings, my reaction
is usually one of sadness, and sometimes of relief that I can get
back in touch with my past. But not rage. All my rage seems to get
displaced on the current people in my life."

"…When I see someone being really
socially awkward and geeky, passive-aggressive, indirect and
victim-like, it does trigger anger in me because I identify with
that person and I don't want to. I try to put my negative feelings
onto them, to see that person as the jerk, not me – that's what a
narcissist does, after all. But for me it doesn't completely work
because I know, consciously, what I'm trying to do. And ultimately,
I'm not kidding anyone, least of all myself."

Self-Pity and
Depression

"More self-pity and depression
here – not so much rage. One of the things that triggers my rage
more than anything else is the inability to control another person,
the inability to dominate them and force my reality on them. I feel
impotent, humiliated, forced back on my empty self. Part of what
I'm feeling here is envy: that person who can't be controlled
clearly has a self and I don't, and I just hate them for it. But
it's also a power struggle – I want to get Narcissistic Supply by
being in control and on top and having the other person submissive
and compliant…"

Regretting, Admitting
Mistakes

"I regret my behaviour horribly,
and I DO admit my feelings. I am also able, in the aftermath, to
have empathy for the feelings of the person I've hurt, and I'm
horribly sad about it, and ashamed of myself. It's as though I'd
been possessed by a demon, acted out all this abusive horrible
stuff, and then, after the departure of the demon, I'm back in my
right mind and it's like, 'What have I DONE???' I don't mean I'm
not responsible for what I did (i.e., a demon made me do it). But
when I'm triggered, I have no empathy – I can only see my
projection onto that person, as a huge threat to me, someone who
must be demolished. But when my head clears, I see that person's
pain, hurt, fear – and I feel terrible. I want to make it up to
them. And that feeling is totally sincere – it's not an act. I'm
genuinely sorry for the pain I've caused the other
person."

Rage

"I wouldn't say that my rage
comes from repressed self-contempt (mine is not repressed – I'm
totally aware of it). And it's not missing atonement either, since
I do atone. The rage comes from feeling humiliated, from feeling
that the other person has somehow sadistically and gleefully made
me feel inferior, that they're getting off on being superior, that
they're mocking me and ridiculing me, that they have scorn and
contempt for me and find it all very amusing. That – whether real
or imagined (usually imagined) – is what causes my
rage."

Pursuing Relationships with
Narcissists

"There are some very few of us
who actually seek out relationships with narcissists. We do this
with the full knowledge that we are not wanted, despised even. We
persist and pursue no matter the consequences, no matter the
cost.

I am an 'inverted narcissist'. It
is because as a child I was 'imprinted/fixated' with a particular
pattern involving relationships. I was engulfed so completely by my
father's personality and repressed so severely by various other
factors in my childhood that I simply didn't develop a recognisable
personality. I existed purely as an extension of my father. I was
his genius Wunderkind. He ignored my mother and poured all his
energy and effort into me. I did not develop full-blown secondary
narcissism… I developed into the perfect 'other half' of the
narcissists moulding me. I became the perfect, eager co-dependent.
And this is an imprint, a pattern in my psyche, a way of (not)
relating to the world of relationships by only being able to truly
relate to one person (my father) and then one kind of person – the
narcissist.

He is my perfect lover, my
perfect mate, a fit that is so slick and smooth, so comfortable and
effortless, so filled with meaning and actual feelings – that's the
other thing. I cannot feel on my own. I am incomplete. I can only
feel when I am engulfed by another (first it was my father) and now
– well now it has to be a narcissist. Not just any narcissist
either. He must be exceedingly smart, good looking, have adequate
reproductive equipment and some knowledge on how to use it and
that's about it.

When I am engulfed by someone
like this I feel completed, I can actually FEEL. I am whole again.
I function as a sibyl, an oracle, an extension of the narcissist.
His fiercest protector, his purveyor/procurer of NS, the secretary,
organiser, manager, etc. I think you get the picture and this gives
me INTENSE PLEASURE.

So the answer to your question:
'Why would anyone want to be with someone who doesn't want them
back?' The short answer is, 'Because there is no one else remotely
worth looking at.'"

Making Amends

"I mostly apologise, and I give
the person space to talk about what hurt them so that (1) they get
to express their anger or hurt to me, and (2) I can understand
better and know better how not to hurt them (if I can avoid it) the
next time there's a conflict. Sometimes the hurt I cause is
unintentional – maybe I've been insensitive or forgetful or
something, in which case I feel more certain that I can avoid
repeating the hurtful behaviour, since I didn't want to hurt them
in the first place. If the hurt I caused has to do with my getting
my trigger pulled and going into a rage, then that hurt was quite
deliberate, although at the time I was unable to experience the
other person as vulnerable or capable of being hurt by me. And I do
realise that if that trigger is pulled again, it might happen
again. But I also hope that there'll be a LITTLE TINY window where
the memory of the conversation will come back to me while I'm in my
rage, and I'll remember that the person really IS vulnerable. I
hope that by hearing over and over that the person actually does
feel hurt by what I say while in rages, that I might remember that
when I am triggered and raging. So, mostly I apologise and try to
communicate with the other person. I don't verbally
self-flagellate, because that's manipulative. Not to say I never do
that – in fact I've had a dynamic with people where I verbally put
myself down and try to engage the other person into arguing me out
of it.

But if I'm in the middle of
apologising to the other person for hurting them, then I feel like
this is their moment, and I don't want to turn the focus toward
getting them to try to make me feel better. I will talk about
myself, but only in an attempt to communicate, so that we can
understand each other better. I might say, 'I got triggered about
such-and-such, and you seemed so invulnerable that it enraged me',
etc. – and the other person might react with, 'But I was feeling
vulnerable, I just couldn't show it', etc. – and we'll go back and
forth like that. So it's not like I don't think my feelings count,
and I do want the other person to UNDERSTAND my feelings, but I
don't want to put the other person in the role of taking care of my
feelings in that moment, because they have just been hurt by me and
I'm trying to make it up to them, not squeeze more stuff OUT of
them…"

"So when I've been a real jerk to
someone, I want them to feel like it's OK to be pissed off at me,
and I want them to know that I am interested in and focused on how
they feel, not just on how I feel. As for gifts – I used to do
that, but eventually I came to feel that that was manipulative,
too, that it muddled things because then the other person would
feel like they couldn't be angry anymore, since after all, I've
just brought them this nice gift. I also feel that in general,
gift-giving is a sweet and tender thing to do, and I don't want to
sully that tenderness by associating it with the hurt that comes
from abusive behaviour."

Why Narcissists?

"I am BUILT this way. I may have
overstated it by saying that I have 'no choice' because, in fact I
do.

The choice is – live in an
emotionally deadened monochrome world where I can reasonably
interact with normal people OR I can choose to be with a narcissist
in which case my world is Technicolor, emotionally satisfying,
alive and wondrous (also can be turbulent and a real roller coaster
ride for the unprepared, not to mention incredibly damaging for
people who are not inverted narcissists and who fall into
relationships with narcissists). As I have walked on both sides of
the street, and because I have developed coping mechanisms that
protect me really quite well, I can reasonably safely engage in a
primary, intimate relationship with a narcissist without getting
hurt by it.

The real WHY of it all is that I
learned, as a young child, that being 'eaten alive' by a narcissist
parent, to the point where your existence is but an extension of
his own, was how all relationships ought to work. It is a
psychological imprint – my 'love map', it is what feels right to me
intrinsically. A pattern of living – I don't know how else to
describe it so you and others will understand how very natural and
normal this is for me. It is not the torturous existence that most
of the survivors of narcissism are recounting on this
list.

My experiences with narcissists,
to me, ARE NORMAL for me. Comfortable like an old pair of slippers
that fit perfectly. I don't expect many people to attempt to do
this, to 'make themselves into' this kind of person. I don't think
anyone could, if they tried.

It is my need to be engulfed and
merged that drives me to these relationships and when I get those
needs met I feel more normal, better about myself. I am the outer
extension of the narcissist. In many ways I am a vanguard, a public
two-way warning system, fiercely defending my narcissist from harm,
and fiercely loyal to him, catering to his every need in order to
protect his fragile existence. These are the dynamics of my
particular version of engulfment. I don't need anyone to take care
of me. I need only to be needed in this very particular way, by a
narcissist who inevitably possesses the ability to engulf in a way
that normal, fully realised adults cannot. It is somewhat
paradoxical – I feel freer and more independent with a narcissist
than without one. I achieve more in my life when I am in this form
of relationship. I try harder, work harder, am more creative, think
better of myself, excel in most every aspect of my
life."

"…I go ahead and cater to him and
pretend that his words don't hurt, and later, I engage in an
internal fight with myself for being so damned submissive. It's a
constant battle and I can't seem to decide which voice in my head I
should listen to… I feel like a fool, yet, I would rather be a fool
with him than a lonely, well-rounded woman without him. I've often
said that the only way that we can stay together is because we feed
off of each other. I give him everything he needs and he takes it.
Seeing him happy and pleased is what gives me pleasure. I feel very
successful then."