You Might Be a Narcissist If … « Surviving Narcissism

You Might Be a Narcissist If …

When The Narcissist Has Kids

the pond My life changed the day I gave birth to my first child. “So tell me something new,” you must be thinking. But if you are a narcissist, you can’t say that. If you are a narcissist, you don’t want to say that your life changed the day you had kids.

Before having children, your life is confined to a nice, tidy boat. Sure, the boat can get tippy. Sometimes the boat can even take on water. Most of the time, if you are lucky, you float your boat, and watch the world from inside, without too many disturbances. If you are really lucky, you have children and your boat capsizes. You end up swimming in the warm, crazy pond of life. Some days you can barely keep your head above water. Some days you float on your back and enjoy all that the pond has to offer, but you never leave the pond for the safety of the boat.

And you don’t want to.

The arrival of children may rock the narcissist’s boat, but the boat never capsizes. Narcissists control their boats very well. They will experience inconveniences periodically, but basically, their boat remains intact.

I was in labor with Will for 22 hours. Labor started at 11:00 p.m. on a Sunday night. I jostled Mark a little, told him it had started, but that I would go downstairs so he could continue sleeping. At 4:00 a.m. he got up to get ready to go to work. When he was leaving he said, “Just hang in there until 8:00 a.m., because I should be done with everything by about then, and I’ll be free to take you to the hospital.” Continue reading →

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12
Oct 09

The World’s Best Boss

This story dates back to when I was still married and working for Mark. That means it pre-dates my education in narcissism. That also means that I had no explanation for why he would undertake such a ruse.

At the time, our little town’s local paper was running a contest. The contest would determine who, in our town, was the Best Boss. Employees were to write in and nominate their boss. The contest had been running for awhile. I had been wondering if any of Mark’s employees might nominate him. After all, he was a very charming boss. He seemed to be well-liked. He had a handful of employees who had been with him for several years.

A few weeks into the contest, I was in Mark’s office taking care of a few duties. He’d been working furiously on a project for a couple days, and hadn’t said much about it. I asked him what was requiring so much of his attention. He explained that he was entering the paper’s contest for Best Boss. I said, “I guess I misunderstood. I thought you were supposed to be nominated by one of your employees.” He explained that he wasn’t going to wait for an employee to nominate him. And besides, “None of my employees would give enough details or information to adequately explain why I am such a great boss.” He was serious when he said this. He went on to say that he didn’t think any of them were articulate enough to write up a letter that would be good enough to win the competition. I vividly remember standing in his office during this conversation. I must have looked stunned. I was stunned. I was thinking that, in the best of cases, you might ask your wife to pen such a letter. In the worst of cases, you might stoop to asking an employee to write the letter. It hadn’t even occurred to me that he would write the letter himself. Above all, that was cheating. And maybe more importantly, that was incredibly vain, conceited, self-centered, and egotistical. More than anything, I was embarrassed.

I knew people that worked at the paper. What was I going to say if someone ever commented on the letter that my husband wrote for the competition, about himself. Surely he couldn’t win, based on the fact that he was writing for himself. Why wasn’t he embarrassed by this? How could he be so full of himself, that he wasn’t the slightest bit embarrassed to brag about himself? I wondered if there was something wrong with me. How many other bosses would write a letter bragging about how great they were to work for?

He actually won the competition. I still can’t believe that. Perhaps he wrote an articulate letter. I read the letter. I have blocked most of what that letter said from my memory. I felt dirty reading it. Maybe there weren’t any other entries. Maybe his charming reputation glossed over the fact that he’d written the letter himself. There are still so many out there that are bamboozled by his charm. Continue reading →

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4
Oct 09

You Can’t Make This Stuff Up

boots were made for walkin' The day the three of us packed our boxes and moved out of Mark’s house was also my Grandma’s 90th birthday. There was a gathering at the nursing home, and the kids and I loaded the boxes in the car, and headed to the birthday party. That sounds bizarre. The fact that we put the boxes in the car, and went on with the plans of our day was a real indication that my mind was made up. I couldn’t put the decision off because of a 90th birthday party, so we packed and went to the party.

My dad was there. He’s a real piece of work. There’s a whole blog’s worth of stuff to say about my dad. And because there are divorces and re-marriages in my family, there were current spouses, ex-spouses, and ex-ex-spouses at this affair. I am not close with my dad, and I don’t see him often even though we live in the same town. A relative once told me that my dad had mentioned to her that he had seen me crossing the street downtown and there were two little kids with me. My dad actually asked the relative who those kids were. He had met them, of course, but he has so little to do with us that I think he sometimes forgets that I have kids. Anyway, I didn’t want him to be the last family member to know that I had decided to leave Mark, and I knew I wouldn’t be seeing him again, any time soon, so I figured I’d find a moment at the party to quickly explain my plans. The kids and I were getting ready to leave the party, so I asked my dad if I could talk with him out in the hallway for a second.

We go out into the hallway and I tell him that I’ve decided to leave Mark and that the kids and I would be staying at mom’s for awhile. He looks at me, his eyes well up with tears and he says, “You go back in there and you tell Mary that she should have never left me.” I couldn’t help it, but I heard myself say, “Huh? Mary? Mary who left you six years ago?” And he sobs, “Yeah, Mary has no idea how she hurt me. You go tell her to come out here and talk to me.”

I just walked away and let him stand there feeling sorry for himself. I wanted to say, “I’ll be fine, dad. Don’t worry about me, dad. Don’t worry about Will and Jenny, Dad. We’ll be just fine. We don’t need anything.” But all I could do was walk away. You have got to admire the kind of talent, skill, cunning, whatever you want to call it, that someone has to have to turn another person’s hardship into something that is all about them.

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21
Sep 09

Forgiveness

I have one of those screensavers on my laptop that displays all the photos in My Pictures. I still have all the photos from when we lived with Mark. Others have commented that it’s a little odd that I haven’t removed them. That screensaver provides a lot of entertainment for Will and Jenny. It’s like having a whole bunch of photo albums at their fingertips. Their dad is still a huge part of their lives and they get a great deal of enjoyment out of the photos.

If it pains me to see pictures of Mark, then I haven’t moved on.

The other day I walked by the laptop and saw a nice photo of Mark with one of the kids. I thought how sad it is that he misses out on the day-to-day stuff with Will and Jen. As an accommodator, it is easy to lose sleep over stuff like that. That’s why it took me so long to leave.

I felt sorry for Mark over many issues. I felt sorry for him because of his upbringing. I felt sorry for him because of the distance between himself and the rest of his family. Was I going to feel sorry for him for the rest of my life? Naturally, there was a point when I was too mad to feel sorry. But mostly, it is sad that NPD prevents him from really knowing his kids. NPD prevents him from having any healthy relationships.

There is so much written about forgiveness. We’ve heard it all about how the only one who is hurt when you hold a grudge is yourself. Continue reading →

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19
Sep 09

It’s Just Stuff

I broke my favorite tea cup last night. It wasn’t an heirloom. I bought it at Ikea for $6. Tea tasted really good in that cup.

Coffee should be slurped from mugs. Tea should be sipped from thin cups.

Even my kids knew that I always made tea in that white cup. When it hit the floor and broke into pieces, Jenny immediately offered to glue it back together for me. I explained that it wasn’t a big deal. I have other cups. Will said, “Mom, I’ll buy you a new one.” They both got worked up about my tea cup.

Strangely, if their own stuff breaks or gets misplaced, they are both pretty non-chalant.

We have a favorite saying around here. When we have turned the house upside down looking for something, one of us will chime in with, “It’ll turn up.” I’m not sure why they were upset about my cup. As I write this, I wonder if they are thinking that I am as fragile as that tea cup. Continue reading →

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1
Sep 09

Narcissism and Secrecy

solace It’s an interesting contradiction that narcissists are very secretive. They shout from the rooftops about their accomplishments, their beauty and their talents. They’ll have you believe that they are fabulous, but they never let you get close enough to see for yourself. Maybe it’s because they know that if you get close, you’ll see that they aren’t any better than anyone else. They can’t risk the possibility of anyone discovering that their house is normal, their yard isn’t spectacular, their furnishings are ordinary. Perhaps they can’t control how much you’ll learn about them if you go to their home. You’ll see that their home isn’t as grand as they’ve led you to believe. Maybe you would discover their vulnerabilities or weaknesses, not that they’d ever admit to having any.

Mark and I seldom entertained. No one from work was invited over. He would get irritable if I suggested having anyone over for dinner. I’m the type that likes to sit on the deck and share a glass of iced tea with the neighbor gal. I never had to ask her to leave when Mark got home. She could tell by his demeanor, that once he was home, there was no reason for her to stay. It was the same with phone calls. I always had to make excuses if a girlfriend should call while Mark was home. It wasn’t that we would be busy doing anything, it’s that he didn’t want to risk my telling her how normal we were.

The whole time I knew him, I had this feeling that there was more of him to get to know. I always felt like he just wasn’t letting me in. I sensed that I had to pass a test before he would grant me further entrance. Every time I failed to meet a standard, I was held at arm’s length. He kept his inner thoughts and feelings a secret. It made me try harder to get to know him. It was a challenge to try to get to the real Mark. I was only allowed to see the Mark that he wanted me to see.

I used to think that he knew me better than anyone else. I realize now that he knew me only to the extent that he was interested in knowing me. He knew me enough to push the right buttons so that he’d get his narcissism fed.

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30
Aug 09

Narcissists And Gift-Giving

Somewhere in the last week of January, 2006, Mark came home from work and emptied three plastic grocery bags on the kitchen counter. I could tell by the look on his face that he was quite proud of himself. With shoulders back and head held high he said, “Well, I’m not going to get in trouble on Valentine’s Day this year. I had to pick up some stuff for work, so I thought I’d get you crossed off the list.”

I said, “Wow, Valentine’s Day is three weeks away and you already got your shopping done.” All the while I was thinking to myself, geez you might wanna wrap something, or keep it hidden for a couple weeks.

No, he needed to bask in the glow of his accomplishment. And, he needed to get Valentine’s Day crossed off the list, so we could all get back to the important things, like making sure he was our top priority.

“Here,” he says, “your favorite chocolates. A nice big box of ’em. And there’s a card in there somewhere, too. Go ahead and find it and I’ll sign it when I get a chance.”

Will took one look at the box of chocolates and said, “Hey Dad, those caramel chocolates are your favorites. Mom likes that yucky dark chocolate stuff.” Continue reading →

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23
Aug 09

The Narcissist As Protector

Last night I was reading in bed. Reading in bed was frowned upon when I was married. Bedtime was meant for one thing and one thing only – service. We didn’t have a T.V. in our bedroom for the same reason.

Now, in my happy little sanctuary, I often read and watch T.V. in bed at the same time – a sweet, simple pleasure. I was reading a wonderful novel by Elizabeth Berg.

Recently, my 90 year old grandmother was visiting. We were sitting around the table talking about books. She asked what I’d been reading. When I told her mostly self-help books, she rolled her eyes and said, “You ought to read something by Elizabeth Berg.” Guess there’s not much point in self-help books when you’re 90.

Elizabeth Berg is the kind of author that makes you feel like you are sitting down for coffee and stories with an old friend.

Back to last night – I was engrossed in the reading and I saw something scurry across my bedroom carpet and head under my bed. It was a ridiculously large spider – so big, in fact, that it had to duck it’s head to get under the bed. I threw my book at it. That didn’t work. I grabbed the broom to try and get at it. Nothing. Continue reading →

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20
Aug 09

The Voice of the Narcissist

pumpkin patch Mark and I hadn’t been dating long. One late summer evening we were taking a walk through a nice neighborhood I had grown up in. I was kind of hoping that I would see someone I knew so that someone I knew would see me with Mark.

I was in the googly-eyed phase of the relationship. I still couldn’t believe that a guy this handsome and this charming actually wanted to be with me. So, naturally, I wanted the world to see me with him. Then the world would think, “Wow, that Jesse is something, isn’t she. She’s with Mark.”

Even though I was so charmed by him and enthralled with the idea of being with him, there was something that just didn’t sit right with me. I felt petty for even mentioning it. Part of me was afraid that if I criticized anything he did, that he’d dump me. Maybe the thing that bugged me, wasn’t a big enough thing to risk sacrificing being with Mark.

I was almost 30 years old at the time. I was starting to understand how important it was for me to express my desires and be open in a relationship. We were strolling, holding hands, and I felt very close to him. In a very gentle, non-confrontational way I asked him why he often talked to me in a sing-song voice.

(This voice was kind of cute in the beginning. I had wondered if that was a voice that he used when he was finding his way in a new relationship. Maybe he didn’t know how to get close to a woman or be intimate, so he resorted to this patronizing voice. I hoped that he would get comfortable enough with me that he could drop the annoying voice.) Continue reading →

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15
Aug 09

Narcissism and Counseling

turbine Somewhere during the time that I left my marriage and discovered Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD) I was going to a marriage counselor. We actually went to counseling as a couple. My ex didn’t put a lot of stock in counseling. He’d tried during his first marriage and wasn’t impressed.

(Obviously it didn’t take, since I was his second marriage.)

Things had to get pretty bad before he would agree to go with me. When he finally agreed, he said he was going to discuss my issues, since he didn’t have any issues, and wasn’t doing anything wrong. I didn’t hold out a lot of hope that anything would change, since that was his attitude going into the sessions.

Now, after educating myself in all this narcissism stuff, I often wonder how the counselor didn’t catch it. How come he didn’t see all the signs? On the one hand, I’m glad I’m not the only one who was dazzled by my ex’s charms. I’d hate to think that I was the only idiot who was blinded by his charisma. But I really thought that someone trained in disorders would see through the charm.

During each of our sessions, my ex would speak in his typical condescending, patronizing tone. It was as if he was saying, “I’m just patiently going through the motions because you will soon discover that there’s nothing that I need to change. It will become clear that you have all the problems. You will realize how fortunate you are to be married to me. You will see that you are making things difficult for yourself. I will be here for you to adore, once you come out the other side and confess to all that you’ve done wrong.” Continue reading →

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9
Aug 09

Prioritizing

old window I spent a lot of time reading the literature about Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD). It’s good to arm yourself with the tools that help you deal with a narcissist. There’s a lot written about how narcissists need to have their narcissism fed. Constant admiration and adulation is food to a narcississt. In the absence of that adulation, they will find a new source.

When thinking of narcissism, I always pictured a tree searching for water. It has to have water for survival. Some trees send roots deep into the ground. Other trees, like aspens, have shallow root systems. Narcissists have shallow root systems. They are never loyal to one source. They don’t trust their partner to always feed them, so they turn to their kids or their employees or a new lover.

I had moved out. I had purchased my own home. The kids and I were settled.

A year had gone by and he informed me that he was irritated that he was no longer my priority. That was always an issue when I lived with him. No matter how my life would get turned upside down, no matter what I cooked for him, or how I cleaned for him, or the relationships I ended so as to have more time for him, he’d always complain that he wasn’t my priority. And now that I wasn’t even living under the same roof with him, he still couldn’t believe that he wasn’t my priority.

Imagine a person having that thought. Then imagine that person actually putting that thought to words – “Why am I no longer your priority?” Continue reading →