Everything in its Place

We view our lives as a series of compartments. The compartments are linked and there is an archway from one compartment to another but this archway has been bricked up by us and only we know the secret word that will open up the archway and admit us to the next compartment. You will try and search for an opening so that you may move from one compartment to another but your search will be fruitless. You will rhyme off all the passwords you can think of from ‘open sesame’ through to ‘abracadabra’ but none of them will work. There is a simple reason for that. We want you to stay in your compartment until we come back to it. We do not want you interacting with any of our other compartments because then it makes each area harder for us to control. A greater need for control mean more energy expenditure which will mean that there is less available for me to use to gather fuel and that is not something I can allow to happen.

A blissful domestic set-up will be in one compartment where I play the role of doting husband and caring father. To the external observer who looks in on the scene through the Perspex it appears to be a picture of harmony and good relations. Yet the observer cannot hear the shouting nor listen to your sobs as you are on the receiving end of another tirade. The fearful cries and the scathing admonishments fail to air beyond this compartment. You are not able to escape to another place and reveal what is really going on in this compartment. As soon as I depart to the next one then the brickwork closes behind me with lightning quick speed, trapping you where I want you. Of course I will tell you all about what is happening in the other compartments when I return, so that you will be subjected to tales of my magnificence in the work place and anecdotes about the new ‘friend’ I have in order to create some triangulated jealousy from you.

My work compartment show me as all conquering and masterful yet those that have been subjected to my brutal put downs and suffered from my repeated dumping of work on them as I breeze around town are forbidden from escaping this compartment to pollute the carefully constructed image that I have made for myself.

The members at the golf club who find my boasting odious and have seen me mark down a lower score than that which I had achieved on my score card are unable to blacken my name to my admirers beyond this particular place. Instead I depart the golf club and scurry to the bar where I regale my hangers-on with another story of my five under par round which won the competition. They coo over my success oblivious to what has actually gone on.

Home life, work life, mistress, friends, club, family and more are allotted these compartments. In each one I am a god. I rule supreme able to do as I please so that I can carry forth my stories of heroism into another compartment and there drink deep of their admiring fuel.

I spend much of my time ensuring that the inhabitants of each compartment know about one another, to multiply my fuel of course, but rarely shall I ever allow them to cross paths. This might lead to someone squaring the circle and working out what is behind my carefully orchestrated campaigns of divide and conquer. A must never speak to B who must not be allowed to tell C what really happened. I must maintain my constructed world where these people are little more than dolls in a huge segregated dolls’ house. I put them in poses and play with them so that I can create a scenario by which I can brag to others in the next room about. If they ever escaped and managed to follow me through these archways so they could compare what I have said with what has actually happened I would be truly finished. Sometimes this happens and then the compartment must be set ablaze, scorched from the record and denied an existence. Next time this compartment will be refurbished, repainted and with new dolls put in place. I must control everything around me. Everyone in their place and a place for everyone.

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5 thoughts on “Everything in its Place”

  1. Early on I told my Narc that he seemed to “compartmentalize”. Of course, he made me feel special for “getting him”.

    Come to think of it, I told him a lot of things about himsekf that were true in the beginning…but I was intrigued and under a spell that deluded me into thinking that with me, he would be different. His great acting skills and over the top lovebombing always overrode my rational mind.

    Even though I called him out and told him I knew what he was and all the ways he had deceived me, he still claimed it was special and that he had loved me.

    Does your kind ever try to Hoover or mess with one of us that has worked you out?

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    1. If that person has worked us out to the extent that they are not providing fuel, there is no point in continuing to engage. We will try a hoover at a later stage to see if the defences remain intact. If the person has an idea of what we are but continues to provide fuel, the game can continue.

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  2. This department store like life I did notice only with N3 but as he was so extremely selective with the people he interacted with I dont think there were many departments… I think….
    Well I suppose then there were secret compartments….
    I guess when you want to control everthing in your life this is the way to do it and as he was the most controlling then he had the structure set in place, but if I would have not read this I would have not concluded to such a structure.
    Thanks for posting this one again HG.
    have a nice day☀️.

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  3. I have seen this take place. Many stages that you speak of from many types of N’s.
    Even those that choose to appear more freelance, hippy like; without a care/life plan, seemingly without structure or purpose. There is definitely controlled order in every action and part of their seemingly overall unplanned life. Whether they be regimented in their apparent chosen lifestyle or not.
    Your description, as always, is excellent to help others understand their methodology.

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