It’s Quite an Act
I recall one occasion when a particularly upset girlfriend of mine, Hannah, descended into one of her typical fits of hysteria. Hannah was an actress. She had been involved in acting since she was a teenager and had also appeared in a Royal Shakespeare Company production of Hamlet. She played Ophelia. I found this rather apt. She loses her mind over the Prince of Denmark and drowns. Typical self-centred response. Poor Hamlet. His father dies and his mother shacks up with his uncle. Not only this but his uncle murdered his father and has taken the throne of Denmark leaving Hamlet cast adrift and mired in woe. His girlfriend Ophelia is meant to support him but what does she do? She gets all worked up about Hamlet telling her “Get thee to a nunnery” and climbs a willow tree and falls in the water below and drowns. I found Hannah to be prone to such similar histrionics. I put it down to her being an actress and her desire for everything to be achieved in one take. She was meticulous in her preparation for her acting. At first, I would help her and play the other parts to help her learn her lines. She was so grateful for my support in this regard, remarking how hard it was to find someone willing to do this and so often. If truth be told, I revelled in it. Not only was her gratitude all good fuel, I am of course something of the actor myself and the opportunity to grab the script and play a part was something I enjoyed. I did not pay much attention to Hannah’s delivery, only listening to what she was saying so I knew when to speak my lines. I was too concerned with ensuring I delivered a masterful performance. This would often draw praise from Hannah and she commented on a number of occasions that I appeared to have missed my calling. I was in agreement.
Of course, over time I grew tired of her repeated declarations of how good my deliver was and I began to look for ways to irritate and annoy her. I knew she put so much effort into her rehearsals and preparation because she wanted the final performance to be outstanding. Whether it was filming for a TV show (she has appeared in a couple of rather good British television dramas) or a stage production of a famous play, her performance had to be the best. I often gained the impression that she was doing this in order to outshine me. I may not be recognised as much as Hannah but that did not mean that what she did was better or more important than what I did. Quite the opposite. She needed to be reminded who was the leader and superior mind in our coupling. I began at first to fluff lines or speak when it was her turn to say her line which drew sighs of exasperation. I delighted in her irritation as I knew that it would soon become annoyance and she would erupt into one of her tirades. I would jump places in the script, says words incorrectly, use the wrong tone for questions and statements and then I began to hide her scripts so she could not practise. A meltdown was inevitable and foolishly she aimed all of this at me. I just continued to make comments that would keep her in a frenzy. You would be surprised to see this waif-like lady who usually is the picture of serenity on television react in the way she did. My goodness, did she have a foul mouth on her.
I rarely got angry with her. Her performances were so gratifying and amusing that I just could not generate a spark, even when she was blaming me. It was actually easier to keep trying to get it right and purposefully messing it up again. Several times I had to exit the room under the pretence of being upset so I could lock myself in the bathroom and stuff my hand into my mouth as I collapsed in paroxysms of mirth, her shrill voice echoing through the house.
The occasion that entertained me the most and which I began this post by recalling was when she was rehearsing her part for a six part dark drama that was part of a major channel’s Autumn drama selection. It was a fantastic piece of writing and Hannah had a chunky part. I got her so worked up and histrionic as I messed about, murmured the lines, said sections incorrectly and so on that she erupted into one of her fits. As the insults flowed I drank the fuel she poured over me and then she made a strange croak and gripped her throat. Feigning interest, I went to her side and she pointed at her throat, eyes filling with tears. It transpired that she had badly strained her vocal chords and a doctor instructed her to rest them completely. She could not rehearse and was unlikely to be ready for filming. The producers replaced her with another actress and dismayed by her fall from such a prestigious production, I sought out somebody else to entertain me.
22 thoughts on “It’s Quite an Act”
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I came to this article per your recommendation about histrionics. Sounds like a roller coaster ride of fun. What is even more interesting is the dynamic of your readers then vs now. Hate vs love and adoration. What do you believe has changed this interaction?
Hello Love, it is interesting in terms of the dynamic. I would not suggest that people hated me before. At the outset of this blog there were one or two who lashed out at me, name calling and the like, which does not bother me because I understand why people feel that way and it is all fuel to me, not huge amounts because it comes from remote strangers but it is fuel all the same. There was a curious respect at first which has grown into admiration from some quarters. This is has arisen as people have found answers which were not available elsewhere. Some of it is because people are fascinated by people like me, some of it is because some people are totally empathic and wish me well in my ongoing endeavours irrespective of what I am. Some people cannot help the way they feel towards me because of what they are, hence why they were ensnared by my kind in the first place. I think most of all however is that people eventually realise that here they can express themselves in an arena of respect and interest. They can articulate what has happened to them, advance their thoughts and theories about our kind and your kind, they can support one another and most of all they get to interact with a unique source in terms of gaining understanding and knowledge which will assist them massively. I have stated before that I am proud of the people who post here because they come with the right attitude and I learn from them as they learn from me.
Interestingly, and I was discussing this with somebody a week or so ago through messages, on my Facebook page there is a greater incidence of vitriol towards me and my kind. It is not the majority view but there is discernibly more of it. I find that interesting as unless they are using fake profiles it is not anonymous. I suppose it goes to show the strength of feeling. It is unfortunate that some of the posters there (it does not happen on the blog) seem to miss the point of what I am doing. They think they ought to tell me that I am cruel, heartless and vile to people – hey, guess what? I already know and all you do when you say this is provide me with fuel. They are intent on smearing me and actually miss out on gaining knowledge because they are blinded by their vitriol. Their loss. As I write, it is only a minority but it is different from the blog. I don’t know why that is.
Why do you love me Love?!
Thank you for those wise words. You have been my salvation. You already know why I love you.
Incorrigible doesn’t even touch what you are!
I remember having read this post before and told you it was nuts to scream in that way and to accept to be screamed at like that.
I would have left the house long time ago if somebody is so histerical as to hurt her vocal chords.
Like that it would have not been difficult to get of the see-saw, even to throw myself out or jump off and wait for a hard landing but at least have silence.
Someone screaming is really something I cant stand at all. She is the one with questioning your purpose from God right?
Of course its not nice what you did, that was mean, and typical by the way, my ex-husband did it often in another context.
Of course house and kids chores which he hated to do.
But there is no scream scream necessary and anyway he also hated the screams so he would have left me speaking to myself 😂😂. Its rather frustrating when somebody does not cooperate. You just dont count on this person anymore. Final point. No drain of energies.
Well described HG, a typical situation in between a couple only that in your case escalated 😖.
Lindo dia ☀️☀️😘
When you are with your lovers do they know you are writing a narcissist blog all the time and books? or do you have a cover up identity?
Hello Sarah, no they do not know what goes on in my boltholes.
What does “HG” stand for in your pseudonym?
The G is not a pseudonym. What do you think they stand for Observant?
I can only guess what the H stands for, and it would depend on how it was chosen.
Would you accept a moniker attributed to you by a victim? I think not, because it would empower them in your mind, even if they did not know you had done so.
My guess would be that the H is an adjective you use to describe yourself. Since you see it in print every day, it would not be self-depricating. It could be a fictional mentor (literary figure you admire), but not likely a real person, because you express superiority to all people.
Warm at all? Or, as the Ns I know love to say: I have “a rich imagination, a naive view of the world,” and I “overanalyze” and “misconstrue things, creating a world where the sky is pink…” You can hear that tangent, can’t you? It is the speech an N gives when their empath starts listening to their intuition.
I am impressed by your logic in attempting to decipher what the H stands for. No I would not accept a moniker from a victim. Have you considered that it might just be a letter and no more? Or perhaps it is Hercules? Or Henry? Or Horatio?
You said hoover!! 😃
Absolutely not: you are much too calculating to choose a pseudonym to represent yourself at random. You put great thought into it, and as it is not going to disclose your identity (because you would not choose one that would), I think you are proud of your “H” and would like to share its meaning.
An interesting dissection and since you have applied yourself in such a way I shall tell you what it is. It is Havilland. Why this? Wait and see.
you help me have more unconditional love for my narc every day.
what is your past like? childhood? or is that boltholed also?
Hello Sarah, I have written about my past in other blogposts and my books so you can garner a picture from it. Fury in particular sheds some light on my childhood for you. I tend not to think about it too much, unless the good doctors (or other posters here) press me on the details.
O.O
Youre a fuckin dickhead….fuel
Hello Mum, not like you to miss the g off.
What a piece of crap you are for doing that to her. How does it feel to be such a loser?
I don’t lose.