Help, a narcissist is crashing my wedding! Or party or whatever.

The Therapy is Dandy Guidebook to having a Narcissist for a Parent. Chapter 18.

An ongoing survival guide.

This one is a special delivery: for all the approaching weddings, summer barbecues, graduations, coming of age rituals, or whatever that the summer season is going to unleash upon us all.

Survival guides typically talk about strategy. This is certainly going to be true here. Perhaps more specifically or hands on than I have ever been in previous chapters. If in reading this dandy little note you come across the impression that the narcissist in question, be it a he or a she or an unknown, is construed as the villain in this fable, you would be correct.

The narcissist is the villain. And a person. A person that hurts others whether by action or inaction and out of awareness or lack of awareness is still a villain. One, as a therapist, I do believe can be rehabilitated. But the rehabilitation has to be wanted. By the narcissist. Not you, and certainly not by me. So, in this particular entry, I will not be using veiled euphemisms. Or poetry. Or subtlety. I am the one who compared your narcissistic parent to Darth Vader after all. And I stand by that.

And obvious to me already, it has been far too long since I have had the time to write about narcissists.

So, fall out onto the Field of Mars.

Any exposure to a narcissist will bring on the psychic armor. Don’t fight that. At least not yet. Wearing less armor around your narcissist is only a skill for those very experienced and mindful at negotiating the narcissist environment. We ain’t there yet in Chapter 18. Or, if you like, a quote from Ygritte from Game of Thrones, “You know nothing, Jon Snow.”

Wearing the armor comes from our earlier exposure and wounding by the narcissist. So, it comes on without us asking. But we can prepare for it. That means resting your body and mind the night before. It means self care. If you don’t know what that means, then you need to find out. It means if you have a partner or spouse or whatever you like to call each other, that you let them into your emotional world and you share how you are worried and bothered and annoyed, and all the other things that come up for you when you must interact with the narcissist. And then maybe you have lots of sex. Because that’s nice too. And, you know, sex.

It is going to be really difficult to work around the narcissist all on your own. You will need allies, and you will all need to communicate and stick together. Never let a narcissist isolate one of your team. You must look out for each other because the narcissist will not. This team may be your friends, your other family, or whomever, but you all should know what the plan is.
What is the plan?The plan very simply is to enjoy the day, the event, the whatever, and to have happy and mostly positive memories about it. Despite the narcissist. In fact, if done right, the narcissist will be feeling pretty good too. But for reasons different to why you and yours will be feeling good.

If we approach the big day with the narcissist at the top of our to do list, then they have already won. Keep that in mind.

This is the one time, and the one kind of event, where I am going to disagree, in a sense, with Don Vito Corleone. You will not be doing yourself any favors keeping the narcissist close in a situation like this. But you can give the impression to the narcissist that you are.

I know.  It sounds shady. I agree. But here is what we know about narcissists:

1) Narcissists tend not to respond well to direct confrontations (lots of people don’t actually). So we can’t just tell them to butt out.

2) Narcissists love to feel important, and if we can make them feel that way, then our problems might just disappear. More on this next.

3) Outside of the immediate family, others may not know or see the narcissist as a narcissist. They are just that charming, lovely if eccentric person, etc, etc. That illusion can be helpful in how you plan around the narcissist.

4) Engaging with a narcissist often involves dealing with all their drama. We want to minimize that for your peace of mind.

If at all possible, keep the narcissist away from the event’s location until the event itself. Some of the more extreme stories I have heard include the narcissist wanting to give their expert opinion on matters like the decorations, the food, the help, the whatever.

Encourage the narcissist to believe that their exclusion to the preparing of the event is because you want them to feel special. And they are too important, too special, to be involved with anything as menial as event planning (Refer to #2 above).

If that isn’t enough, plan something specifically for the narcissist to keep them away from what you want to keep them away from. Again, encourage them to see this as your gift to them. It’s absolutely true, even if it isn’t.  The only other options, as far as I can tell, are to not invite them—and they might show up anyway, or tell them what you really feel about them and possibly precipitate an emotional blowout. On a day that is supposed to be about a celebration. Bad idea.

If you cannot keep the narcissist away, then keep the details from them. Anything to do with timetables, timing, coordinating, managing and supervising. Unless you specifically want them to do these things (But why would you?), conveniently forget the details when asked. The less the narcissist knows, the more you and your team can do without worry of interference.

Expect thoughtlessness. Expect cruel comments that are given in the false bloom of expert opinion. Narcissists are not above criticizing brides on their wedding day, or brutalizing graduates on graduation, or any other number of grossly disturbing behaviors. We—and I mean you—cannot afford to be shocked by their tremendous lack of empathy or concern for others. That is what a narcissist does. And to be brought to tears by it, to be terrorized by it, is like hitting your thumb with a hammer and not expecting it to hurt. Narcissists hurt others. And they don’t take responsibility for it, and furthermore they have a fancy excuse in their back pocket in order to blame you for everything anyway. You must expect this when in their company. Not doing so if you don’t know about narcissists or never read this guidebook is understandable. Not doing so after reaching Chapter 18 is naïve at best.  You cannot allow yourself to be held an emotional hostage anymore. Certainly not at a party.

So, don’t respond when they get nasty. Not at this event. Let your psychic armor take the brunt of it. You will need a day (or more) to recover from the event.  And you will need to recover from the narcissist. If you have to, and can, get up, smile, and walk away. Walking away from a narcissist with a smile on your face that they can’t understand is a special kind of joy. Cerebral, but still a joy. We need more cerebral pleasures, if you ask me. If you can’t walk away, change the subject. Talk about why you are there. Be on the lookout for a member of your team, your wingmen, and try to flag them down. If you are stuck, and can’t leave, and can’t think of anything else to talk about, get the narcissist talking about themselves—it is their favorite subject after all. Maybe they have a new car, or an addition to their house. Ask them about their job, their weekend, their television preferences, whatever. It takes the pressure off you, and they won’t know you aren’t really listening to them. Chances are they are not even listening to themselves. Am I right or am I right?

You cannot win against a narcissist if you play by their rules. But, as described above, you can use their beliefs and behaviors to your advantage. Is that really sneaky? Or is it being smart? And effectively understanding your environment?

If you want to rehabilitate, confront, cut out, isolate, or altogether forget the narcissist in your life, that is your choice.  And a very important and difficult choice to make. This guidebook wants to cover all of those options, and provide you with as much information as possible in making that very important and difficult choice. But think long and hard about how good of an idea it is to confront a narcissist and try to upset the status quo on the day of an event much bigger than you or them.

Choose your battles wisely. Learn how to handle the narcissist in your life with more skill and prowess. If Luke had listened to Yoda and Obi Wan on Dagobah, he would have probably not lost his hand to Vader on Cloud City. I think you know what I mean.

Next time: Should I stay or should I go now? (Hint: not about me praising the discography of the Kinks—but one day I could do that too.)

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Suicide III

The people who sell anniversary cards have a lot answer for. I’m looking at you, Hallmark.

There is no such thing as an anniversary card for a really fucking terrible anniversary. Like rape, a traumatic car accident, the death of a child, or a suicide. But when a year rolls by and sure enough you are having an anniversary of that really terrible thing, feelings happens.

Feelings that can be miserable in their own right. Feelings that remind you of what it was like whenever whatever it was happened. Feelings that have the power to overwhelm you. Or numb you.

Get thee to a counselor, if so.

It can become confusing on what is the good or the “right” way to deal with these feelings. What are we even supposed to feel at these times—that some positive progress has been made, or some imaginary point of good mental health has been achieved, a way station between transitional emotional states is found? Or are we just supposed to forget?

Forgetting doesn’t happen.

(Well, unless whatever it is gets repressed, but that’s a different post.)

Maybe if people stopped trying to explain away their feelings (or lack thereof), something good could happen. Simply accepting whatever your feelings are is a great first step. That means not trying to change your feelings, or analyze them even, or move beyond them, or freeze dry them inside your own personal emotional freezer, but just accept that on this crappy day of a terrible event you feel whatever it is that you feel. And you don’t fight it.

Because if you stop fighting it maybe you can learn to accept it.

Anniversaries commemorating loss don’t really sound like anniversaries though. Anti-versary isn’t likely to catch on with people. Unless it does–and if so–I’m awesome. So, what can we call the day in question? It is more of an observance than anything else, I think. The word observance suggests some mindfulness, which is always a good thing. But that leads to another difficulty. You may have a healthy or getting healthier way of dealing with the anti-versary for yourself, but that doesn’t mean others do. And we have to deal with that as well.

As a rule, my blogs have been more topical and guidebook related than personal, except the two previous posts on suicide. I stopped writing about the suicide because my intent was not to garner or generate sympathy. I wrote about it because I wanted to share my process and maybe articulate that counselors are shockingly just like other people when it comes to grief and loss. But I felt I needed to stop writing about it because I didn’t want the posts to be misconstrued to be more about me than the suicide, and suicide in general. I don’t know if I really succeeded in that. I’ve had clients bring up those specific posts and be told they were helpful in deciding to seek counseling with me. I have also been told that other professional counselors saw the posts as, for simplicity’s sake, attention seeking.

Some times it is maybe too easy for others to hear the word suicide and rush in and try to judge or rescue.

So what do people want when the anti-versary comes knocking?

Honesty I think is a good one. People want to have their feelings validated and accepted. Even if they are awful feelings to possess, like fear or sadness, or even hate.

When something terrible happens to us, or around us, there is often a cultural disposition to go into problem solving mode. This can take form in many ways: people bring food (because eating your way out of a problem always works), people bring booze (because drinking your way out of a problem always works), people bring their idea of a solution (because feelings are a problem! And need to be fixed!!), whereas what people might really need is for someone to just shut up and listen to them.

Listening about bad news is hard. Our feelings, and our defenses, and our own excuses all come to the surface, and soon it becomes more about us than them. Give yourself a timeout if that happens.

So be available and listen to your loved one who is grieving about whatever it is the anti-versary of. Because chances are they want you to be there for them too.

And that’s nice.

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Avoiding a trip to the emotional vomitorium

Have you ever been hit up alongside the head with any of these winners?

“You’re overreacting. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“You are just too sensitive. That’s your problem.”

“I can never tell you anything without you having some kind of reaction.”

“You’re just too emotional for your own good.”

Yes, feeling too much can actually be worse than feeling too little. At least with the latter, you may be a candidate for Asperger’s Syndrome. But when you feel too much, what does that even mean?

Sadly, it can get a little bewildering even for counselors.

Feeling too much of an emotion can have a paralytic effect. That part of depression is correct: the whole psycho-motor retardation issue: a person just doesn’t want to get up, let alone do something to “snap out of it.”

It is normal, okay, and expected to be sad when something in our environment changes and it isn’t a good change: you lose your job, a relationship, a pet, your favorite incarnation of Doctor Who, whatever.

It is also fairly easy to argue that the people claiming to feel the least amount of emotions, in fact feel a great deal of emotion, but they push it aside, deny it, hide it, and believe that this creative adjustment is actually helping them.

It isn’t.

But you can’t blame people for trying to hide their secret emotional selves.

Some historical explanations for the overly emotional (that you may find rather unfortunate):

You are weak.  You are certainly not manly enough. Or maybe you are just hysterical. Or attention seeking. Perhaps even possessed by devils. Difficult. Something.

Maybe because there are more men in our culture in a position of either power or authority that identify with feeling less emotions than others, there is a natural bias against trying to understand people—men or women—who feel more.

Because there certainly isn’t a good diagnosis to give someone who feels all the time. Until fairly recently doctors labeled women as hysterical. In the 20th century, overly emotional female clients were slapped with the Borderline Personality Disorder. One of the best descriptions of BPD I have ever heard is that of a person who has no skin, and therefore every feeling they have is raw and overwhelming.

Where do emotionally attuned, sensitive people catch a break in our world?

…I’m waiting.

No really, I am still waiting to find out the answer to that one. This post is more of a question I guess than anything else.

Let me reflect for a moment.

It can be very hard to accept our emotions, to feel comfortable with uncomfortable feelings when we all live in a world that doesn’t really acknowledge the complicated paths and obscure mental corridors that exist in all of us related to our feelings and our emotional lives/wounds/fantasies/selves.

It’s okay to hesitate and to question and to tentatively seek some insight into those dark, hidden away places.

That process doesn’t make you weak, or less of a person, or somehow damaged. It puts you in the same company as all the rest of us.

And because vomitoriums are so passe.

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I read boring psychology textbooks so you don’t have to.

I mean it. It is perhaps the one part of me that is aligned with the Buddha: my wish to prevent other people’s suffering.

Unfortunately I am a therapist so other people’s suffering is something I really can’t avoid.

So.

For a lot of people, people who might already be in therapy, it can still be somewhat of a surprise to learn that emotions are the literal jackpot when it comes to helpful therapy.

As in: talking about emotions, admitting emotions exist, just paying attention to emotions, acknowledging painful emotions, exploring uncomfortable emotions, realizing emotions are not the best travel guides when trying to find out the truth, recognizing the power emotions have over everything, including our thoughts.

To borrow from an old friend who while in law school shared the gem, “If you want to know who is responsible, always follow the money,” I offer my own therapeutic version of the statement: “To get the most out of therapy, always follow the emotion.”

Emotions are much easier to hide though than the paper trail of money or whatever lawyers are looking for. But they still get paid more than us, so that should bother you. Altruistically, I mean.

Anxiety as a general symptom is proof of an emotion out of context or control. Expressed in a mathematical format: Anxiety=Emotions + our preconceived notions or unexpressed expectations about ourselves (PNUE). Our preconceived notions or unexpressed expectations could be one of any number of “shoulds.” Example: Men shouldn’t show emotion. Result: anxiety when emotions happen. Another example: Women should love the role of being a mom. Result: anxiety when any other temporary emotional reaction happens that disagrees with that statement.

Who wins in this crazy contest? Besides the pharmaceutical companies, of which at least 4 CEOs are probably on vacation right now.

The answer: not you.

Not your relationships. Not your sense of happiness or fulfillment. Not your kids, or your spouse. Not your 401K. Maybe your dog. But not really.

Everybody loses when you avoid your emotions.

Possible solution: accept your emotions. Make nice with them. Integrate them back into your life, as opposed to trying to cut them off and burning the evidence. This is not The Walking Dead.

Everyone around you will appreciate your effort. Even you.

Don’t be afraid to ask for help.

Disclaimer: no emotions were avoided in the writing of this blog. In fact, my various emotions while writing this entry contributed positively to every aspect of it.

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Everything is Clinical. Everything is Genuine.

Things don’t always mean what you think they mean in Therapy. Part 5.

Read any clinical textbook from any era or school of therapeutic thought in the history of psychology, and you will find a lot written about clients missing appointments. There are thousands, if not millions, of examples of a client missing an appointment, and then the therapist (and their school of thought) explaining to you the reader why the client missing an appointment was an example of them acting out.

Acting out is code for therapists when we want to describe a client’s behavior as not positive. For example, a counselor may think or say this: Last week I confronted client X about their gambling, and they finally admitted it in session. This week they cancelled our regular session with less than 24 hours notice. I believe they are acting out.

I reserve the right to call bullshit on that premise. Let me explain.

Part of why people choose to see a therapist is because they want to pay a professional who has the skills and ability to help us with our collective baggage. Therapists are trained at seeing what others don’t see or won’t admit to seeing. I agree and I expect that when I go to my own therapy. But what if part of the baggage in being a therapist is always looking for fires where there isn’t one?

I think part of this issue stems back to the beginning of the field, when only medical doctors did what we would now call therapy. And it was Freudian psychoanalysis more than it was anything else. The therapeutic relationship was very different back then, as was the actual therapy. The doctor hardly spoke. The client, or patient as they called them back then, was expected to free associate whatever was going on in their mind. The patient often saw their doctor every day for therapy. The doctor was, given the times and circumstances, in a definite position of power and expected deference from their client (some things about doctors don’t change) and every single thing the patient/client did in “therapy” was considered significant. Kind of makes sense in a backwards 19th century Victorian male patriarchal dominated way, I suppose. Classic Freudian analysis included such juicy tidbits as sitting behind the patient/client out of sight in order to not influence the stream of consciousness. Quite an interesting leap of logic there that in order to avoid influencing a client in therapy, you encourage them to act and behave as if you are not there at all. Who doesn’t want to be seen by whom, I have to wonder.

People can and do cancel appointments because something going on in therapy is important: feeling safe, feeling heard, being or not being validated, expressions of passive aggressiveness, etc. Yes, of course that happens. A lot of that gets labeled transference and it is part of any good therapy to address that in the session. An important part of seeing a therapist is to expect to a certain degree that they will attend to and communicate concerns that come up within the therapeutic relationship. But with all that being said, isn’t it possible that people miss their therapy appointments because they are just too busy to make it that week, are feeling tired or lazy, or maybe they really did just forget about it?

Well, of course. I know I have cancelled therapy appointments for even more trivial reasons than those. Because therapy has become a normal thing like any other normal thing that people do. It isn’t some rare event that is discussed in hushed circles. Except when it is, but those people probably don’t read a blog called Therapy is Dandy.

Keeping the archaic 19th century model of therapy in mind, let’s turn to the topic of a client giving their therapist a gift. Right now on various online mental health forums there are therapists discussing the pros and cons about accepting or refusing gifts from clients. I don’t mean gifts like a condo time share in Croatia or a new convertible Jaguar. I mean gifts like a coffee cup or a bowl of homemade soup.

Again, the dominant paradigm in psychology is that when a client gives you a gift, there is always a hidden meaning attached to the gift. It doesn’t necessarily mean they are acting out, but you better believe it could. If upon receiving a gift of a book or homemade cookies and the very next week the client cancels an appointment or forgets to show up, or asks for a reduced fee, the gift is then retroactively used as proof of the acting out.

Because human beings just can’t up and be nice to each other without some brainiac deciding it is pathological for some archaic reason.

It makes my brain hurt.

Yes, it is true that a client may have an ulterior motive in giving a gift. That is covered in graduate school—believe me—but what is nonsensical to me is how a profession devoted to understanding human behavior can so easily disregard genuine human interactions. When we spend time with one another in whatever setting, we can actually learn to care for each other. And people like to give things to other people because they care. And caring is not yet a sign of serious psychopathology. But wait for the new DSM V to be sure.

The pushback on this kind of thinking can be summarized with a word: boundaries. As in, as a professional counselor or therapist it is on us to maintain appropriate boundaries with clients in order to avoid unhealthy boundaries. That is therapy code for having a personal or even romantic relationship with a client. That is unequivocally bad and unethical. No argument from me there. It is the realm of nearly every therapist ever shown in any Hollywood movie. But I do believe the relationship one can build in therapy is stronger and more resilient than that of a postcard.

People are penalized enough in our culture as it is for caring. I maintain that for therapy to be successful one cannot just remain clinical all the time, but genuine as well in our professional capacity. Nobody wants therapy with a robot.

Until some freaky scientist creates the first therapy robot. It’s really only a matter of time.

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Things don’t always mean what you think they mean in therapy. Part 4.

I love hearing stories about experience with other therapists. I think it is a very important thing to pay attention to. Especially when people make comments or complaints about being confused by what their therapist does or doesn’t do in a session.

Before things get dirty, I will admit that I make mistakes everyday. A day without me making some kind of error is next to impossible. I am human, and I am always becoming a better therapist. The becoming part never really ends. The action there, the present tense focus on Now is integral to the kind of therapy I practice. Now is the only time a person can change. Thinking about my profession in any other way leads to stagnation and self-congratulation. No, thank you.

The pain I may feel is only there to help me learn something.

Man, this is sounding a lot more confessional than I was expecting.  So, that’s something.

The Now that I am so enthusiastic about nevertheless exists between two very troublesome bookends: the PAST and the FUTURE. Or, to consider them in more emotional terms, the REGRETS and the ANXIETIES.

Between those two straits, those psychological versions of Scylla and Charybdis, does effective therapy exist. Stay too much in the past, and there is no way to change and a lot of depression. Worry about the future too much, and the only thing left will be anxiety and helplessness.

So next time your counselor asks you the ubiquitous question: How do you feel (about whatever) right now? They don’t mean to be hitting you over the head with the same dull hammer. They are attempting to gauge if you are in the NOW and what that feels like. Your answer is very important to them. And you.

For some of us, the NOW is scary and bad and we get out of it as soon as possible. Please let me be distracted by my cell phone, or Facebook, or what my mother thinks of my lifestyle.  Something. Okay, but knowing that about yourself and sharing that with your counselor is huge. Huge.

If you know why you are avoiding something (the NOW, intimacy, anger, your job, your childhood, politics, Seth McFarlane hosting the Oscars, whatever) then you and your therapist can talk about strategies around that particular something. And having a target is good. The best kinds of targets are the ones you find yourself.

Perhaps the biggest reason we avoid being in the NOW is the intensity of it.

There is nowhere to hide. That includes your therapist. It gets very existential and very personal. And one has to want that. Or trust enough to go there. Do you want to go there? Do you trust going there with your therapist? If you are not sure, why not try asking them about it. If you are not comfortable asking your therapist questions then that’s a problem.

Again and again the research has shown that what makes effective therapy isn’t years of experience, or theoretical orientation, gender, or fees, but the relationship between the client and the counselor. It remains the biggest predictor of good therapy. And you deserve that.

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Last Train to Codependencyville-Narcissististan

The Therapy is Dandy Guidebook to having a Narcissist for a Parent. Chapter 17.

An ongoing survival guide.

Do you go out of the way to try to meet other people’s needs, often to the detriment of your own? Do people marvel (yourself included) at how well you are equipped to respond to the emotional needs of others, like you have a next generation emotional radar app for your brain?  Do you get frustrated in relationships, but lack the will to confront your partner, or yourself, about the communication breakdown? Might one of your parents be a narcissist?

If you answered yes to some or all of these questions (you know the drill), then you my friend may be susceptible to traits of codependency. So before this train takes off, sit down in the last seat in the last car because that, metaphorically, is what you are already doing to yourself anyway, all the time, in most of your relationships.

Never putting yourself first.

Who the hell wants to be codependent anyway?

Well, nobody actually. It tends to happen though when we are not aware of the circumstances around our initiation into that particular dysfunctional club. Meaning that we tend to form these sorts of relationship patterns in our earliest years, among our family of origin—keeping in mind inherited traits, dispositions, etc. Kind of similar to the way narcissists develop, or borderline personalities develop, or antisocial personalities. But codependency is not considered a diagnosable mental illness in 2013. It is not in the DSM IV, V or VI (Return of the Narcissist Jedi). Yet everyone agrees that codependency exists and it causes considerable emotional distress. Strange, right? Maybe it will become a diagnosis after someone discovers a medication to quell the codependency tendency. What?

Take a look at this checklist, and consider your responses. It is a pretty good checklist, in an internet full of absurd checklists.

Like narcissism, it is very human and very normal to have some of those tendencies. It doesn’t make you a mess; it makes you normal.

There is a stigma to the label though. Not that anyone feels good when their doctor tells them they have cancer, but this is a different kind of label. It suggests you are doing things not only wrong, but that you might be your own worst enemy. And there is little perceived support around that kind of an issue in our culture.

We are too full of folksy wisdom like pulling yourself up from the bootstraps, and just grinning and bearing it, or faking it till you make it, or the most banal, Just do it.

When what you do is considered suspect, what the hell happens next?

Depression. Mostly. Because needs are not getting met.

Who or what is really good at not meeting other people’s needs? Narcissists.

And there we have the relationship. Until I can commission a 3 dimensional mobile-ish construct to explain how the narcissist and the codependent person coexist, this blog will have to do.

If narcissism is Pepe Le Pew, then the codependent is this poor soul—who doesn’t even have a proper name! Thus the truth about the suffering of codependency. How can you be a victim, if you don’t even have a goddamn name?

And believe me, there is a post in the near future about how there is too much victim-y talk going on—in general everywhere—anyway, but when people are suffering and have no voice, watch out. We should not abide that.

Get off the train.

The difficulty with codependency is in the same vein as being an ACNP (adult child of a narcissistic parent—side note: I need a better acronym), you might go a very long time in your life before you realize how the dynamic is causing you so many problems. So here is the first step:

Get off the train.

Just because you are familiar with the surroundings and the passengers, doesn’t mean this is the best route for you. There are others trains. And much more agreeable passengers. Think about seeing a therapist who can help you figure out which one is right for you.

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Narcissism isn’t the same thing as Syphilis

The Therapy is Dandy Guidebook to having a Narcissist for a Parent. Chapter 16.

An ongoing survival guide.

Narcissism isn’t the same thing as Syphilis.

Just because you are exposed to it doesn’t mean you have it.

This concern is something a lot of people have been asking me. People who have narcissists in their life are worried about being closet narcissists themselves, or light narcissists, narcissists by proxy, or Stockholm syndrome narcissists.

There has also been a preoccupation with whether or not a person is without a doubt a narcissist or not. In past posts, I have suggested this is less of a problem than one might think. Perhaps a better explanation is in order. I have been using a new adjective recently, one that applies to these situations. It is “narcissistic enough.”

If for example an individual has 4 out of the 9 criteria that the current DSM IV-TR lists for Narcissistic Personality Disorder, my professional opinion is that they are narcissistic enough. And my common sense completely agrees. It’s nice but not altogether unsurprising when those two can agree on something.

Narcissistic enough to not know how to validate the emotional state of their child. Narcissistic enough to treat the child as an extension of their own ego, or worse treat them as an accessory. Narcissistic enough to allow their own needs and ego to get in the way nearly every time the child has an issue they need help with. Narcissistic enough, or so criminally preoccupied, that they don’t pay any real attention to the child. Narcissistic enough to blame the child for their (the parent’s) own narcissistic wounds.

Maybe some further explaining would be prudent here. I feel like I am on a roll. The DSM IV, or the nearly finished DSM 5 is not written for you, the population who are suffering from relationships with narcissists, or borderline personality disordered individuals, or people with ADHD, or ODD or any of the other well-known acronyms. The DSM is written for professionals to diagnose and for insurance companies to send a reimbursement check for services, and it is written for (some would argue it is written by) pharmaceutical organizations to sell you meds you probably don’t need (and probably don’t help that much).

That may have sounded like a rant, but I assure you I am just reporting facts. The difference, and believe me there is a difference, is that this guidebook and my professional raison d’etre is to provide clients and the general public with helpful information that addresses how you can deal with problematic individuals in your life, be they narcissists, or whatever. Hence the term: Guidebook. Okay, moving on.

Clues someone in your life might be narcissistic enough:

  1. Do you feel the relationship is unfair in terms of who supports who?
  2. Do you struggle to feel validated or heard by this someone?
  3. Does this someone have little patience for you, or anyone else’s problems?
  4. Does this person actively or passively aggressively denigrate you, put you down, or otherwise emotionally invalidate you?
  5. When backed into a corner, does this person blame you, or get angry at you, or others?
  6. Does this person not take responsibility for their actions?
  7. Does this person talk about their lofty, unreachable goals, but never quite follow through with any of them?
  8. When this person fails at something, do they blame others for the failure?
  9. Do you feel numb, defensive, not yourself when you are around this person?

10. Does this person have little ability to accept criticism?

If you can answer yes more times than no, guess what?

Narcissistic enough.

Having to deal with a narcissistic on a regular basis is enough for one to think that maybe they are the one with the problem, that they are—in effect—the crazy one.

If you keep blaming yourself for other people’s problems, then that is an even bigger problem.

Let’s pick up with that little codependent slice of heaven next time, shall we?

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The Shame Sandwich

The Therapy is Dandy Guidebook to having a Narcissist for a Parent. Chapter 15.

An ongoing survival guide.

No, this is not going to be a review of the movie Shame, starring Michael Fassbender.  But if, for whatever reason, you need to remind yourself of what shame looks and feels like, go rent that movie. It’s also pretty good at showing what people with Borderline Personality Disorder can be like. Both Fassbender and his sister in the movie, Carey Mulligan, are strong contenders for BPD.

Last time we talked about shame as it relates to our relationships with the narcissists in our life. Today, I would like to suggest shame is to narcissists what kryptonite is to Superman. They really, really, don’t like to handle shame at all. And that is the explanation for why so many of us around narcissists have to deal with it in spades. We get the projected shame of the narcissist on top of our own fragile self.

Why?

To a narcissist, shame is to be avoided at all cost. It is without question the narcissist’s greatest weakness, their Achilles heel, their albatross. This avoidance can be considered unconscious in that they may not even really understand why they avoid it; that’s how strong of a drive they have against shame. The phrase, “Have you no shame?” is a perfectly rhetorical question to a narcissist, who often can behave in seemingly shameless ways. For everyone else, when asked that question, one can imagine an appropriate answer: “Yes, as a matter, I do have some shame. There was this thing, one time at band camp…” Or, “Yes it does fill me with shame to admit I did…whatever.” Not so for a narcissist. You might as well ask a Terminator to self terminate.

Again, why?

Shame is at the heart of the narcissist’s own deluded and grandiose sense of themselves.  They have that infuriating, entitled, larger-than-life persona specifically to avoid feeling any shame whatsoever. Asking a narcissist to feel shame is like asking a narcissist to acknowledge they are living a lie. It ain’t going to happen, kimosabe.

Chances are, when backed into a corner with shame, a narcissist will respond with anger. They will blame you. They will criticize you. They will, you guessed it, try to shame you. Because that allows them to avoid their own feelings of shame and the reality of their personality.

In very dry clinical terms, narcissists use the defense of projection of shame on to others in order to regulate their own sense of self worth. For a narcissist there is no healthy internal mechanism available to process shame. So the shame is directed outward—away from the self—and that is why it can never be the narcissist’s fault.

Shaming is not the only weapon of choice for a narcissist. When necessary, they will use denial, coldness or even rage to avoid taking responsibility for their behavior.

So what can you do?

Admitting our own sense of shame in front of a narcissist is an interesting idea. Pay attention to how they respond to you. Denial? A general recoiling in fear as if you were a snake? Stone silence? Blaming the victim? They may look at you like you are speaking Martian. And then watch them change the subject. Back to themselves.

But look out for when they need you to be shamed. Often it is just a need to control others. That’s the manipulation, the charm, the way a narcissist can get you to not think about your own needs. And again, that kind of thing needs to stop.

A child or dependent of a narcissist, often without realizing it, receives a form of validation based on the narcissist’s needs, not theirs. Let’s call it anti-validation, because all the while you are paying attention to the narcissist’s needs, you are letting yours fall away and maybe even forgotten.

So, the question is: how long are you going to allow yourself to be fed this diet of shame, shame that is not even yours, and then the anger and the frustration at realizing what you just ate, and how terribly unfulfilling, how terribly invalidating it all was?

Time to change the menu, yes?

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Narcissist Family Values.

The Therapy is Dandy Guidebook to having a Narcissist for a Parent. Chapter 14.

An ongoing survival guide.

Narcissist Family Values.

The way people arrive (or don’t) at their own value as a human being is complex and complicated (and, thankfully, someone else’s blog). But it gets downright murky if they happen to have a narcissist as a parent.

First, the narcissist has his/her own over-inflated sense of their own own value. That leaves those of us around the narcissist with little value to ourselves. Outside of how we contribute to the narcissist’s need for their over-inflated belief in themselves. That means we (the adult children of narcissists) often are left with an empty feeling. About ourselves.

But the fun doesn’t stop there. Once you become aware of this emptiness, it’s up to you to fill it up with something good. The narcissist is not going to help you find yourself.

Being angry at the narcissist isn’t going to fill up the emptiness. Being angry in general to anybody is not really a “reparative” sort of behavior, sorry all you primal scream adherents. Into the same category goes addictive behavior of every kind: alcohol, drugs, gambling, shopping, video games, whatever the latest behavior labeled as an addiction is this month. All of those behaviors mask the emptiness with things that give a great payoff initially, but over time cause their own problems. But as a culture, you have to admit, we are really fond of this sort of problem solving. The-avoid-the-problem-by-being-focused-on-something-other-than-what-we-are-responsible-for problem solving.

I mentioned emptiness. I also want to mention shame. Shame is one experience a narcissist will never actually admit to. In fact, narcissists are fantastic at projecting their own shame on to others, in this case, you or someone else close to them. What do you do with that?

Having that extra glass of wine, spending hours on the internet, or even spending an extra hour on the treadmill makes more sense now if what you are hiding from is that secret sense of shame. That isn’t even yours. But you feel responsible for it. And that needs to stop.

Shame is so bad for our psyche, I don’t even like writing about it. Because I know how it has gotten its claws into me and my world. I have actually been sitting on this entry for weeks, wondering how I can write something useful and not completely transparent about the topic. If there was still any doubt, that’s therapy code for “I have issues with this topic myself.” That, by the way, is called therapeutic self-disclosure. You’re welcome.

We must not be afraid to admit we have feelings. It’s perfectly reasonable to admit that we can feel shame for one of a thousand, million different reasons. To be ashamed (on occasion) is to be human, or some such business. Carl Jung has a quote about illuminating the dark, hidden parts of ourselves to fully understand ourselves. I couldn’t agree more. Shame hides in the dark.

Getting back to the question: what do you value about yourself? Write down three of them. That’s a good place to start. Maybe think about why they have always been important, what puts them above all else into the top 3 positions. I will even share my top spot on the list as an example, and in the spirit of proceeding despite feeling fearful.

My number one value about myself that took a very long time to identify is surprisingly enough, value. As in, I have it. I am a valuable person. I have value despite what others think or say about me, despite what I have lived through, despite what my life has or doesn’t have at the moment.

Values are not written in stone however. My list is only in my head, where it competes with a lot of other information. We can lose sight of values, even our own, if we are not mindful. Think about that the next time you are sitting across from a narcissist and they want your attention for their needs.

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