Scapegoat

 

scapegoat

“You don’t want to end up like him do you now?”

Years later those words still echo through my mind. They act as some cruel guardian which ensures that I will never stumble, never flounder and never fall victim to the injustices which this world has in store for me. I was shown what happens to those who are weak, those who fail to seize control and grasp the power for themselves. The consequences of failure were paraded before me on an almost daily basis to allow me to witness the full horror of what it was to be sub-standard, below par and just not good enough.

I knew that this fate must not befall me and that it became necessary for me to clamber higher than everybody else no matter what it took or what the cost was. So long as there was somebody underneath me on that ladder as I climbed, then, as the saying goes, the devil would take the hindmost.

Onwards and upwards, climbing higher and higher to escape the consequences of vulnerability, weakness and failure. I was given a swift induction into learning how to stay ahead and protect myself. There were two routes available to ensure that you stayed number one and the best. Strive to stay ahead of the opposition and by the opposition I was taught that this means everybody else and furthermore bring the opposition down so that they become subsumed into the quagmire of failure.

If your opponent is taller, chop him off at the knees. If he is better looking, fling acid in his face. If he is smarter, batter his brains out. If he is stronger, poison him into weakness. If he is wealthier, sap him of penny and cent. If he lives in a pleasant place, pollute the neighbourhood. If he has a good job, get him sacked. Figuratively speaking some of the time of course and that means to do all of those things, that it is necessary to play the scapegoat card. Become proficient at pointing the finger elsewhere, cultivate persuasiveness so that the allocation of blame falls on the shoulders of another, practise plausible deniability so the mantle of fault never rests on my head. Never be the one at fault. Ever. Those were my instructions.

The indoctrination continued. You are not to blame, you are not guilty, you are not the problem, you did not cause the problem either. Erase sorry from your vocabulary as you do not feel it, remove the idea of apologising as you have nothing to apologise for, do not express anything which might be regarded as guilt as that is an alien concept.

There is always somebody else who can be blamed. It does not take long for the repeated mantra of it never being my fault to engender that sense of impregnability and a lack of accountability. Since it is the fault of everyone else it is impeccable logic is it not that it can never be my fault? It therefore follows that if it is never my fault then such a fault-free individual is truly superior and stands above all others.

To facilitate this it therefore becomes necessary to identify a scapegoat or more accurately scapegoats. The role of scapegoat slots seamlessly into our thinking. Fault is an intangible concept but it exists. Someone is always to blame. I was taught that from the beginning. Things do not just happen, they happen for a reason and the reason that she was always crying, that he was always failing, that they were socially ostracised, that she could not pass her exam, that he never scored a goal, that they never went on holiday, that he could not hold down a job, that she was a single mother, that he had a drink problem, that she was ugly, that he lived in a poor area, that she was never invited out, that he died alone, that she was beaten, that he was arrested, that she was raped, that he was murdered was because they were scapegoats.

Make others the scapegoat and immunity from fault and blame follows and thus one can move without hindrance, barrier or boundary. Make him or her a scapegoat because if you do not get in first they will do it to you. Make sure you blame them before they can turn that accusing eye in your direction. Stay one, no ten, steps ahead. They deserve to be blamed. If they had any value they would not be stigmatised in such a fashion, it is their own fault.

I learnt that they may come with smiles but the blade of blame is held behind their back ready to strike, so plunge your dagger of fault deep into them first. Do not be taken in by the false proclamations of love and compassion, they are but veils to place across my eyes so a crown of accountability can be thrust on my head.

Soon, the lessons that I learned began to automatically teach me. Not feeling enough attention at a party? The guests are ignorant and impolite. Tell one that this is a case and see how the attention shifts. Served slowly at the bar? The bar man is incompetent and he should be reminded of this fact. See how he has responded now? Report not completed on time? Find a junior colleague and point out how he has failed to provide the necessary information. Criticised for not earning enough? Blame the bosses for running the company into the ground and failing to reward an achiever such as I. Feeling restless and unloved? Lash out at her so she seeks to make amends. Stuck in a traffic jam? Blame the department of transport for the ill-thought out road works. Struggling to sleep? Must be those damned neighbours and their late-night music, go and give them a piece of your mind and see how much better you feel when you point out they are at fault.

But what if it is not those things and it is because I am not interesting enough to talk to, or not attractive enough to catch the server’s eye, or not good enough at my job, or not hitting the targets because I cannot apply the required effort, or because I do not show her any affection any longer, or because I set off late from the house, or because I fell asleep this afternoon?

Never. That is what they want you to think. That is the control that they seek to exert over you. That is how they get inside your mind and try to make you think that you are weak, when you are not. Remember, they want you to be the scapegoat. They want you to be the failure, they want you to be the subject of their blaming, so you take the rap, take the hit and become the patsy. Yes, you are right, I remember now.

The diktat still resonates even now, reminding and emphasising. That is not your role. You are better than all of them. You will rise above them and to do that you must work hard at everything and ensure that they are the ones who are to blame, because they are. They are the ones who are trying to stop you achieving and claiming what is rightfully yours. They are the traitors, the insidious foes, the treacherous betrayers who spout sedition and practise disloyalty. Let them know who they are, scapegoat them.

Thus this carries into everything that we do. We find a scapegoat in every aspect of our lives. The put-upon sibling, the browbeaten colleague, the lambasted neighbour, the oddball in the local superstore, the subjugated underling, the butt of the social circle and most of all you, the intimate partner who becomes the ultimate scapegoat.

It is you that becomes the receptacle for our domineering, hectoring, nagging, bullying, blaming, intimidating, coercing, blaming, accusing, menacing, terrorising, bludgeoning and oppressive persecutions. You burnt dinner, you made the white shirt turn pink, you forgot to get that present that we wanted, you failed to satisfy our sexual appetite, you made us be unfaithful, you made us break that mirror, you made us slap you, you made us ill, you made our team lose, you cost us that promotion, you woke us too early, you woke us too late, you let us fall asleep, you kept us awake, you didn’t do it, you did it. Again.

This conditioning ensured that the only way to stay ahead, to win and to succeed was to find someone else to blame and that does not change because we know you are just waiting to try to blame us, well we know your game. We have you in our eyes and it is you who is to blame, not us.

The only way to prevent the hell of being a scapegoat is to make others a scapegoat instead.

And so I do as I do, I say as I say and I am what I am so that I do not end up like him, like her, like them, like you.

Can you really blame me for doing that?

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The Power of Demise

 

the-power-of-demise

 

“As long as I have a want. I have a reason for living. Satisfaction is death.”

So said George Bernard Shaw. To us satisfaction is not death but we derive satisfaction from death, the death of others. I wrote about how I rarely attend funerals and explained the reasons why, but that is not to say that we will not use the instances of dying and of death to our distinct advantages. Indeed, where the spectre of death looms waiting to cut that last slender link between the person and life, with his sharpened scythe, our kind come crawling from the woodwork in order to avail ourselves of the copious fuel that is available. Should you see one of our kind re-appear after an absence, there is a reasonable chance that the sickly sweet smell of death has attracted us.

Should we learn that a family member or friend is about to shuffle off this mortal coil, then this presents a marvellous opportunity for our kind. To begin with, the façade can be maintained through demonstrating false compassion about the circumstances of the person whose demise is imminent. We know all the phrases to rollout to the procession of visitors and comforters who are drawn to the bed of the dying individual. We delight in keeping a vigil besides this person even though we may not have bothered with them in years. Should someone be as bold to question why we have appeared now of all times after remaining away, we will seize on such an unwarranted observation to castigate the questioner.

“How can you ask such a thing like that, at a time like this?”

“This isn’t about me; it is about Uncle Malcolm.” (How we say this with a straight face still surprises me.)

“You can talk, what have you done for her lately?” (Which will be asked even if we know that the questioner has been a total rock to the dying individual)

Our response will be designed to draw an emotional reaction and allow us to drink of the fuel provided.

We will provide the rudimentary appearance of caring, although it is all for show. We will of course leave the heavy lifting work to other people. We are not there to change the pus-ridden bandages or sooth the fevered brow. We will not clean up after someone soils themselves or spills food and drink down their front from shaking, tremulous hands. Not at all, but we will do what we do best and shower words of empty kindness, false compassion and fake consideration towards the ill individual. This makes us look good in the eyes of all assembled and their nods of approval and muttered thanks not only provides us with fuel but adds to the façade’s maintenance. We are a good stick for travelling all this way (we were coming anyway for another reason) and offering such eloquent words of comfort to all assembled.

Watch us as we move amidst family members, friends, colleagues and neighbours who turn up to see if they can help as we position ourselves as gatekeepers. Nobody gains admittance without seeing us first so that we may suck in the fuel that comes with such a heightened emotional situation. Tearful siblings, stern-faced uncles, bewildered cousins all ripe for us to send a pleasant and supportive comment towards, purely to receive their thanks, gratitude and approval.

We will not allow the person whose sands of time are running out to inhabit centre stage one last time as we camp on to their ground, usurping them through an exhibition of apparent concern and compassion. Watch carefully and you will see that we do not actually do anything for the dying person, that is not our role, there are minions for that and it is all beneath us. Instead, we see this as a chance to draw fuel and appear to be a supportive individual who is pulling everyone together and ensuring that the dying person’s final days are as happy and as comfortable as possible.

We have seen enough times what needs to be said in order to produce the tears, the slowly dipped head and the weak smile, the attempt to be brave despite the heavy sadness. Inside we do not feel this as we greet each person. We feel empowered at the fuel that flows. We hover by the bed, watching over the new arrival’s interaction with our charge, commenting on what we have been doing for them (in fact it will be someone else who has cared for them but we are content to take the credit) so we gain additional approval and thanks. We regard these visitors as having come really to see us, to thank us for our work, our generosity and our greatness, rather than the dying, shrivelled person in the bed nearby. Like some morbid cuckoo we appear and take over this person’s final act, claiming it for ourselves, our fuel lines snaking towards anybody and everybody who appears.

Of course there even remains the opportunity to draw fuel from the dying individual. Though they may look at us through morphine-hazed eyes and mumble medicated words which are difficult to discern, the tightness of their grip on our arm or hand tells us plenty about how they appreciate what we are doing. As their time on this world draws to a close, we still see the chance to pull some fuel from this person as we trot out the familiar platitudes at a time like this. We do not say them to convey comfort, but only to ensure that appreciation, gratitude and thanks comes our way and in turn fuels us.

As guardian and comforter-in-chief we position ourselves at the centre of everything during this period. We do little but direct others and issue our spoken commands and observations, all of which being self-serving. We will endeavour to create yet more fuel by leaning in low and listening intently as the dying person speaks, perhaps their last words as we nod and gently pat them with our hand, the chosen one for their final speech. We will take these words and use them to our advantage. Should the grieving widow, let’s call her Emily ask what her now departed husband said, we might dismiss his actual words and say,

“He said, tell Emily I am sorry for what I did.”

Her look of confusion at our false utterance will provide fuel. Alternatively, we might say,

“He said, tell Rose I love her so, so much.”

Her puzzled look as she asks “Who is Rose?” generates a further dollop of fuel.

Then again, we may pretend that some huge secret has been imparted to us and that we cannot say what it is in order to draw questioning and attention to ourselves.

Indeed, there may be instances where there is that last chance to draw some negative fuel, to make those dimmed eyes flares one last time in shock, hurt and confusion. An opportunity to lean in close and whisper a final caustic sentence, designed to consign this wretched person to spend their final moments in torment, unable to respond effectively, their grimaces and clawing indicative of the discomfort that has been caused by the parting savagery that has been gently spoken into their ear. A parting burst of negative fuel which underlines our sense of omnipotence that we can still achieve this even at a time like this. Such an act is usually saved for someone who we truly believe deserves it.

I have watched in my time a master practitioner at such behaviours. From silent child made to sit and observe, through to knowledgeable adult who can see straight through this veneer and who knows what is really being done. I have seen all these moves, actions and behaviours meted out by this supposed bastion of compassion and all the while I knew what was really going on.

I may not have copied those behaviours extensively myself – usually because time has never permitted me to spend such days providing such a vigil – but I have seen it when younger and snapshots when older, as well as recollections from others which all fits together. I know what she does. When she arrives, immaculately attired, heels clicking away on the floor as she assumes centre stage, I focus on that click click clicking and know that the death watch beetle has arrived.

I have learned and I may yet choose to apply those lessons should the need arise, but I know for sure that I will seek that last fountain of negative fuel before the death rattle. I know who I will save my choice comment for in order to achieve that satisfaction from death.

By The By

Image result for picture of a range of emotions

 

By making you love us, admire us and adore us. By praising our brilliance, marvelling at our superiority and hailing our god-like magnificence. By craving us and worshipping us. By shining your spotlights on us. By seeking your sympathy. By playing the victim. By lying. By lying. By lying again. By issuing excuses. By using you, exploiting you and draining you. By taking your money and your possessions. By isolating you and scaring you. By having you run around for us, jump for us and pander to us. By comparing you to others, by making you anxious and by making you walk on eggshells. By promising the world, jam tomorrow and showing you heaven. By changing the rules that never applied in the first place. By raising the bar and moving the goal posts. By putting you down, mocking you and insulting you. By making you take the blame and by making you feel guilty. By making you scream, cry and sob. By wounding you and hurting you. By confusing and bewildering you. By pushing you and pulling you and pushing you and pulling you. By lifting you up and casting you down. By binding you to us and by sucking you into our world. By false promises and empty apologies. By using him and by adding her. By saying nothing, by saying nothing and by still saying nothing. By lifting you up, by slamming you down, by saying yes and by making you say no, no no. By never listening, by seeing only what we want to see, by doing what we want, by going where we choose and by doing as we please. By some distance, by yourself, by the narcissistic book. By vanishing, by disappearing, by disapproving, by snarling and by sneering. By smiling, by touching, by whispering and by caressing. By promising, by offering, by suggesting and by supplying. By delivering, by forgetting, by letting you down and by walking away. By being the best, by being like nothing else, by giving you your dreams and by shattering them too. By stealth, by slices, by insidious application. By charm, by magnetism and by honey-covered words with sugar-coated smiles. By a nod of the head, by a raise of the eyebrow, by a clench of the fist, by a swing of the foot. By nothing at all, by everything and more, by the first golden light and by the unceasing night. By silence, by shouting, by screaming and by sobbing. By laughing, by teasing, by holding and by shaking. By the illusion, by the fabrication, by the disbelief, by the horror. By the treachery, by the rage, by the isolation and by the smothering. By love-bombing, by triangulating, by gas lighting and by never stopping. By going, by returning, by hoovering and by departing. By not letting go, by giving nothing, by taking everything and by binding you tight.

By existing.

But never bye bye.

The Relational Tower

Image result for picture of a dark tower

 

I sit up on high in my Relational Tower. I can see so much from this throne.

I look to the north and see the golden and shimmering lines which extend from me to my loyal subjects across the land. I see my supporters, my followers and my coterie going about their daily lives but all the while connected to me. They feel such privilege to be linked to me, their liege and I feed on that sense of privilege and the admiration and that adoration which is entwined around it.

I look to the south and see yet more lines of sparkling gold which link between me and my most devout lieutenants. From my vantage point I can signal to them and they will obey, carrying out my commands, executing my diktats and honouring my instructions. It is a source of great comfort to gaze in their direction and observe their industry on my behalf.

I look to the east and frown at the assembled legions which march towards me. The malcontents, the rejected, the fools and the idiots, all those who have taken up against me and now march in the expectation that they will unseat me. Yet further lines span out from me to these traitors. Dark purple lines, nearly invisible against the glowering firmament, these multitudinous lines which have those transgressors permanently attached to me and through which I pull, twist and yank. They moan, they wail and they lament their fate but there is no hope for any other for these are those who bear the stain of betrayal, the putrid stench of sedition emanates from their shambling frames. Let them come, let them advance towards me and I shall watch them as they break against my tower, like waves against the rocks as they are sent scattering and dissipating into so much spray. I watch them from afar, sometimes commanding my lieutenants to enter the fray to cajole and direct, a myriad of gold and purple shimmering and glinting as the lines combine. From time to time the purple becomes golden as by my most glorious bounty I bestow the wondrous joy upon the select few.

I look to the west and there I see you. You shine with such glory, the golden line between you and I fizzing with effervescence. A thick line which coils about your wrists, torso and throat, sending that precious essence towards me. There are days when that connection will dim to the purple of guilt, the thick line becoming stretched and thinned, but never ever breaking. I watch you as you journey towards me, face upturned, eyes rapturous, hands outstretched as the light burns brighter and those who are less than me would struggle to gaze upon you, but I always will. Though I may turn my face away from you from time to time, my dark eyes will always look for you.

I watch you all as you journey towards me, the supporters, the lieutenants, the outcasts and you. I can see it all from this elevated position as I organise, direct and orchestrate. I know what you want. I know what you all want, each and every one of you.

I am attached to you all, you are bound to me, some tighter than others, some with those chains which bite and burn, others who raise no objection to their silken bondage, but all are bound to me. I made it so. I wanted that. I am connected to so many of you. I have a relationship with each and every one. Our relational proximity varies from stranger to intimate partner, from minion to inner circle friend, from colleague to family member and so on. Relationships. I have them by the hundred and create more each day, reaching out with my tendrils of gold and purple in order to remain exactly where I want to be – at the centre in my tower.

I know why you all head towards me. You want to enter this tower and thus gain admittance to me. You wish to unlock the vast gate and pass through the imposing portal to enable you to climb the winding stone steps, each time passing without hindrance or complication through the many doors and gates which guard my inner sanctum.

I know you want to enter my inner sanctum.

Some of you want to cradle what you find there. Some of you wish to possess what your eyes will rest upon. Some of you wish to claim a portion for yourselves and be forever imbued with its effects. Some of you wish to release what is in this inner sanctum. Some of you wish to understand what lies there. Some of you wish to destroy what is revealed.

Whatever it might be, the hundreds of relationships which I have, no matter how long, how strong and how tightly bound or otherwise these may be all seek to enter my Relational Tower and penetrate the inner sanctum.

This cannot happen.

I made this tower. I built it high. I built the walls deep and thick, constructed from the stones of denial and the slabs of deflection all held in place with the mortar of fuel. I fashioned the thick timbers of the door from projection, the timber bolted together through triangulation and the lock created from a steely gaze and iron resolve. The heavy bar that is set against it arose from the blame-shifting. I have set many traps and pitfalls within this tower in order to prevent anybody reaching the inner sanctum. The stone steps are smeared with vitriol, the walls spiked with character assassination, cauldrons wait to pour their heated fury onto you and cast you in deep pits of despair. The stone is so thick that there is only ever silence here, it as if the very walls are giving you a cold and baleful stare. Everything that I have learned will be used to impede your progress, hamper and hinder you so you may not ever reach that inner sanctum.

I know you all want to go there. I know you want to reach deep inside of me, into my inner sanctum but I must not allow it. I dare not. I cannot admit anybody. Ever.

I built this tower high. I built it thick. I made it impenetrable.

I built it to keep you out.

I built it to keep me in.

We are always connected but so long as I remain in my Relational Tower in such spending isolation then my inner sanctum remains preserved and so do I.

Ghosted and Gilded

ghosted-and-gilded

The opportunity to understand the way that the narcissist thinks and behaves is a rare occurrence. Here you will find an array of explanations across different topics and scenarios which will give you unrivalled insight into this dark and destructive individual. Gaining understanding of how this person regards you and the world around him or her is the key to unshackling yourself from the confusion, bewilderment and distress that accompanies any entanglement with a narcissist. This book provides a multitude of observations which will illuminate your understanding and assist you in gaining comprehension of what you are dealing with.

UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/Ghosted-Gilded-H-G-Tudor-ebook/dp/B01HRTFM3G

US https://www.amazon.com/Ghosted-Gilded-H-G-Tudor-ebook/dp/B01HRTFM3G

CAN https://www.amazon.ca/Ghosted-Gilded-H-G-Tudor-ebook/dp/B01HRTFM3G

Darkness

darkness

Do you feel the darkness as it coils about you? Do you see those midnight black tendrils as they slither towards you? Do you recognise that encroaching cloak of nothingness as it begins to wrap around you? Do you see how the inky murk blots out parts of your life as your friends become obscured by the gathering darkness? Have you any idea what is waiting for you in the shade as the pools of despair begin to form at your feet? Can you feel the icy embrace as the levels of gloom start to rise, swallowing you up bit by bit? Are you aware of the advancing chasm as it swallows up your family, wrenching them away from you consigning them to oblivion? The engulfing darkness causes them to vanish and even their desperate cries and shouts become muffled and then extinguished. Do you remember what held your interest before this fog arrived? Can you recall those hobbies and past times that entertained you and gave you a sense of who you were as you enjoyed engaging in them and with other people? Can you or is the fog too thick so that you doubt if you ever did undertake them at all? Have you noticed how the air has become thicker and cloyed with poison or do you breathe it in oblivious to the toxicity that comes with it? Are you aware how the twilight has percolated into your ears so that everything you hear has become twisted and distorted? Do you recognise what is patently before you or do the shadowy shapes and figures make little sense when they once did? Have you realised that your words have become dust in your mouth as the fur of the darkness fills your mouth and slides down your throat, strangling the sounds you try to make? Do you feel the icy embrace of this impenetrable wall of darkness which advances to you and over you? Do you recognise this glacier of despair as it slides over you, subsuming you and sucking you deep inside, preserving you in a dark, icy tomb? Do you even see your reflection in the mirror anymore or has that become masked in darkness too, the glass dulled so that everything becomes obscured and shows something else entirely? Do you see those shades which come and torment you, their sinewy fingers pulling at you as they strip you piece by piece of what you are? Do you observe these wraiths as they devour you, sucking what you are into their dark maws? How does it feel as this corrupting night brings permanent darkness to your world? Do you see how nothing grows anymore when touched by the gloomy taint? Do you smell that foul stench which accompanies this unending blanket of murk? The acrid fumes which waft into your nostrils and eradicate anything sweet and pleasant. Do you notice how your tongue lies flat and useless in your mouth, little more than a cold slab? Do you even acknowledge how everything tastes like ash? Do you feel the leaden weight of this darkness pulling at you, slowing you and seeking to engulf you? Do you recognise how it prevents you from breaking free, this glue-like morass which has fastened on to you and will not yield? Do you notice the fatigue that now wraps around you, leeching at your energy and vitality? Do you hear anything other than the whispers of malevolent control that rattle about your beleaguered brain? Do you know who you are or has this vast amorphous darkness eradicated your sense of being? Do you remember what it was to feel uplifted, joyous and happy or have you become accustomed to the flat, perilous embrace of this total darkness? Do you even feel anything anymore other or has the cosseting black cloud anaesthetised you, numbing and freezing? Do you feel the darkness? No, you never do. You never see the darkness until you have seen the light.

 

The Carrier Empath

the-carrier-empath

The Carrier Empath. A particular type of empathetic individual who naturally gains the attention of our kind. As I have explained before, our kind are drawn to empathetic individuals who fall within one of the classes of empath. Those classes consist of The Empath, The Super Empath and The Co-Dependent. The Carrier Empath is a particular division of those classes and therefore can be found amidst any of those classes. The Carrier Empath is not a stand-alone form of empath but rather is embodied by exhibiting Carrier tendencies which “bolt on” to the relevant class of empathic individual.

The Carrier Empath shoulders, more than others, the emotional burden. This person rarely talks about themselves, although they have much they could talk about, either as a consequence of their natural intelligence which lends itself to considerable discourse, their ability to connect with people and engage in what could be termed as small talk so people are put at ease or because of their extensive experiences they have much they could share with other people. The Carrier Empath does not see it as necessary to talk about themselves. All empaths are good listeners, it is one of the empathic traits which our kind look for, but the Carrier Empath is a superlative listener. Exhibiting considerable patience, he or she will sit and listen to the woes and problems of others. They do not jump to conclusions, as many people would, instinctively forming a view of the person they are engaging with, within moments of meeting. Instead, the Carrier Empath is able to resist making an early judgement about this person and will listen to what they have to say, so they can best work out how to assist. The Carrier Empath knows full well that sometimes just being listened to is the best thing for another person.

Those with Carrier tendencies are work-like in their approach, reliable, organised and effective when facing pressure. They regard it as their role to take on responsibility for others and struggle to determine the boundary of when they should not do so. They are unable to avoid taking on other people’s issues and problems and feel a need to assist but to do so through actions and a practical application of their compassion, honesty, decency and understanding.

The Carrier Empath is not a person who overflows with emotion but is certainly not devoid of it. Their emotion does not appear in surges and spikes, histrionic reactions as a consequence of the situation which they find themselves in but rather as a steady and reliable provider of fuel through their evident compassion and supportive nature. Whilst caught in the dizzying devaluation, some empaths will find themselves despairing and having up days and down days whilst they experience the push and pull behaviours, the Carrier Empath adopts a stoic approach. Inside he or she may be churning but they do their best to maintain a brave face as they seek to remain dependable and forging forward. This person is solid and dependable. They are not a dullard, but they do not shine and glow like other empathic individuals. They are grounded, practical, pragmatic and excellent problem solvers.

The Carrier Empath is unable to leave responsibility with others. They regard it as their task to be responsible for other people and they rarely judge the flaws of others, but rather see it as an opportunity for them to shoulder the burden. They will remain with those who suffer from addictions, seeing it as part of their obligation to remain and fight the fight on behalf of the afflicted. The Carrier Empath readily takes on the problems of others and will do so even when this becomes a drain on his or her resources, such as time and money. They may have somewhere they need to be but if the telephone call is continuing because the caller needs help and assistance, the Carrier Empath will continue to listen.

There is a strong sense of obligation on the part of the Carrier Empath. Whilst empaths as whole feel obligation, the empath will assist because they feel good about doing so, in a way, they gain a form of their own fuel from helping others. The Co-Dependent will usually help because he or she has to do so, being of a  giving nature in order to find validation for themselves in terms of their place in the order of things. The Super Empath relished the challenge that is presented and regards it as an opportunity to exhibit their powers. Layer the Carrier Empath onto any of those classes and you add a complexion of obligation – the relevant class of empath does it because that is what should be done, that is the right thing to do and they have an obligation to care. They will recognise that the task in hand may be difficult, they will note that it will drain them but their fearsome sense of duty causes them to be the first to volunteer and the last to give up.

This division of empathic individual is certainly compassionate but approaches matters in a practical manner rather than “hearts and flowers” and whilst they will certainly use words to comfort, to support and to show empathy they prefer to rely on actions. If someone is suffering, rather than hand out tea and sympathy, the Carrier Empath will assume the mantle of the problem themselves and tackle it head on. They are especially apt at standing in the shoes of somebody in order to absorb the blast on behalf of someone who is struggling or wants their help. They are the proverbial person who would take a bullet.

The Carrier Empath has significant reserves of inner strength but is unable to regulate the use of this strength, since they tend to be blinded by their need to resolve the problem (often expecting no assistance at all from the person being helped) and therefore they will keep going until they have depleted their resources and a sudden collapse ensues.

Such individuals are prized by our kind, but by certain narcissists in particular. There is the provision of fuel, that has to always be there, but it does not always fountain from the Carrier Empath. Greaters tend not to choose those with Carrier Empath tendencies as a primary source because the gushing appreciation is not the style of the Carrier Empath, furthermore, the Greater tends to be more resourceful and therefore has less need of this element of the Carrier Empath. Instead, the Carrier Empath is desired by the Lesser and Mid-Range schools and especially so by the Victim Narcissist.

The Victim Narcissist derives fuel from the provision of care and compassion. His less impressive countenance is not one which results in gushing praise and over-the-top appreciation. Accordingly, the exhibition of care and compassion gives him the fuel he wants plus the residual benefits he requires and this is always preferable to the empath who gushes with praise but does little in the way of practical care. Thus those with Carrier tendencies are more suited to the Victim Narcissist.

Furthermore, the Carrier Empath comes with considerable residual benefits in terms of the provision of caring for someone with poor health, dealing with chores and problems on that person’s behalf, providing food, shelter, money and such like and therefore this raft of residual benefits appeals to Lesser Narcissists in particular and naturally the Victim Narcissist from the Lesser School.

The Carrier’s capacity for “taking the bullet” results in them also having appeal to the Mid-Range Narcissist. The passive aggressive Mid-Range Narcissist who finds that he is not able to get his way with a third party will invariably turn to the Carrier Empath to step up on his or her behalf and get the problem sorted. If weakened from a lack of fuel and potential criticism from this third party, the Mid-Range will turn to the Carrier Empath to make everything alright again and the Carrier Empath will dutifully attend to his.

During devaluation the Carrier Empath is wounded and confused by the manipulations used against him or her, but their sense of duty carries them forward and they will often fall victim to the narcissist’s capacity to blame others. Accordingly, if the narcissist blames his outburst on being overworked, the Carrier Empath will accept this explanation and will look at ways of alleviating the load on the narcissist, by taking more on him or herself or even going so far as to challenge the boss of the narcissist to secure a reduction in workload. The narcissist knows that with a Carrier Empath he can in effect point that person in the direction of a problem and the Carrier Empath will march into battle on his behalf. Again, this is why the Greater has less of a need for those with Carrier tendencies and why those of a Lesser or Mid-Range school have more reliance on the Carrier.

Devaluation causes those with Carrier tendencies to battle on in the hope of resolving the narcissist’s problems. The Carrier is less inclined to blame themselves. They do not see themselves as the cause of the problems which the narcissist alludes to during devaluation, but rather only blame themselves for not resolving those problems. The Carrier is blinded to understanding that there is no fix, but regards every problem as having a solution which will, with the right application of energy and resource, eventually present itself. The worse the narcissist becomes during devaluation, the more those with the Carrier tendency will apply themselves to trying to sort the problem out and usually identifies an external source (wrongly) as the source of the problem and is ultimately sent on a wild goose chase trying to tackle this external source whilst the problems continue unabated.

If the relevant narcissist does not have a primary source with Carrier tendencies it is likely that one will be recruited as a secondary source. This is more likely with the Greater who will prefer the primary source to be fountaining with fuel (rather than providing a host of residual benefits) and to have a secondary source who can be turned to as and when required, perhaps at moments of crisis, to be utilised for their Carrier traits. Whilst the Lesser and Mid-Range narcissist and especially the Victim Narcissist cadre of those two schools will want a Carrier Empath as a primary source, the Greater will position one as a secondary source since they make excellent Lieutenants.

It is common to find that the scape-goated child of a narcissist, if they avoid becoming a narcissist  themselves, tends to exhibit strong Carrier tendencies because they realise that by getting things done, having to attend to their own needs because the narcissistic parent has abandoned their duties at an early stage and also having to parent the narcissistic parent, is the most effective method of surviving. They care but do so without “showiness” and deliver in a practical and dependable manner.

It is also worth noting that as some narcissists age they will gravitate more to securing a primary source who is a Carrier Empath. Though fuel remains important, the need for the residual benefits becomes increasingly important for those narcissists who see their looks fading, their mobility decreasing and therefore suffer a reduction in their ability to charm and attract. Of course, this is not applicable to all of our kind, since many become distinguished with age, have the magnetism that comes from financial power and their innate charisma and sharp mind remain undulled. However, for those that see the waning of their powers, the Carrier Empath becomes more attractive to them.

The Dictator

the-dictator

This morning I met with members of my inner circle. All of them to a man are yes men and women, drawn from my most loyal lieutenants. Take him, the head of my secret police who is engaged in eliciting information about those I must repress. He conducts himself with an enthusiasm that borders on the evangelical, chasing down those who must succumb to my regime, extracting information about them through a variety of means, his network of assistants, spies and snitches all positioned to assist in achieving my greater glory. I half-listen as he reels off the latest intelligence that has been gathered about a dissenter who remains a thorn in our side. She seeks to resist the imposition of our will. Apparently she believes that she has viewed the truth about my regime. It is all lies of course. I turn to my Chief of Information and Truth and receive his report as he sets out a seven-point plan to crush this upstart. He issues his words with the fervent belief that I installed in him when I recruited him. When was that again? I cannot remember. He has been in that position for such a long time that I struggle to remember who even held the post before him. His eyes flash with enthusiasm for the smear campaign that he has devised in order to demolish the credibility of this dangerous opponent who is intent on spreading malicious lies and malcontent about our most glorious and benevolent regime.

All of them sit around me, members of my cabal, hand-picked in order to carry out my will. I know they revel in their positions of privilege and that they too jockey with one another for position in order to receive the favour of their Most Illustrious Leader. I glance at the immaculately dressed lady whose countenance is positively glacial. She is my Minister for Demagoguery, charged with devising those repeated slogans and campaigns of popularity, irrespective of cost to those who oppose us, in order to maintain my hold on the country. I know she is in love with me. They all are, in their own way and she wants to sit at my left-hand. I should imagine she will launch a takeover bid and oust the First Lady of Prime Supply. I switch my gaze across the table and wonder what the Head of Fuel Procurement would make of that if he knew that she would usurp both his latest find and his function in delivering the finest supporters from my legions of beloved citizens. Still, it does no harm to keep them all vying for my favour. My eyes sweep around the table, the keen and obedient faces all looking to me for approval, a sign of acknowledgement, a nod of agreement or a smile of pleasure at what they have suggested in order to maintain our most glorious rule. The Minister for Total Adoration sitS staring at me, her face representative of the ministry over which she presides. She organises my supporters to provide their oft and repeated parades, rallies and demonstrations of blind loyalty, all part of maintaining my facade of popularity and devotion. I realise that the room is silent as all eyes look to me, awaiting my decision on what the Chief of Information and Truth has just painstakingly detailed in order to crush the rebellious individual. My mind was elsewhere but I have little doubt that his plans are effective. They have always proven to be in the past and will continue to do so.

“Execute it,” I say quietly. The Chief nods and makes a note in his expensive-looking notebook. I sense the simmering jealousy from the others sat around the gilded table at the approval he has just obtained from me. I will ensure they all receive their moment of approval however, feeding them the titbits that they require in order to maintain their absolute loyalty to me.

Sometime I wonder how much of what I dictate to them they actually believe or whether they harbour desires to be in my position. Surely that thought crosses their mind from time to time. I know it would mine if I was them, but then I am different to them. I am the Most Illustrious Leader and it is because of my unrivalled skills and abilities that I hold such a position and why they do not. They could not do what I could do. Could they?

Each and every day I am the beast of prey which they admire. I must at all times maintain a show of strength, so they remain committed to the maintenance of our glorious regime. There can be no weakness demonstrated. A cold, hard edifice of savage decisiveness which tells them that they chose the correct side to support. There is so much to do. So many reports to receive, so many decisions to make, so many targets to track and watch, assess and monitor. The Minister for Observation and Perusal has proven to be a key recruitment in my ongoing work of identifying those who will best serve me, from the many millions who exhibit potential. I must have the best because I am the best and this inner circle is charged with enabling my machinations to be effected and for total and absolute hegemonic control to be exerted over the masses. I know the trouble-makers, the seditious splinter groups, the treacherous traitors who need to feel the smack of firm government to keep them in their place. It dismays me at times. I invite them into the illustrious headquarters of this most powerful of regimes and deliver to them every grace and favour that they could ever want let alone imagine, yet they still turn against me. I have yet to understand why. Even my long-standing Head of Torturous Devaluation is at a loss to explain why certain of my recruitments fall. Still, it does not trouble him as he relishes getting his hands on them and exposing them to the latest malevolent manipulations that him and his ministry have devised. Their Room 101 is far worse than the one they may have read about.

Remaining on top of this vast empire remains a task suited to only the greatest and that was why I was chosen. I must watch, decide, act and govern. Each and every day, I must demonstrate that I am in control. I know the liars and turncoats spread lies that I find the whole charade exhausting, that I have lost my appetite for threatening and destroying and that it is only a question of time before the whole edifice comes crumbling down. Thankfully the Minister for Best Presentation is always able to portray me in the best light so when the occasional fatigue of this relentless operation does seek to make itself apparent, it is beaten away through the judicious application of trickery and fakery. I thank my own personal god that it is the case otherwise who knows what succour my opponents would gain from seeing such weakness come to the fore. Would they be bold enough to implement a coup d’état and have the despicable desire to unseat their Most Illustrious Leader? Sometimes I wonder if they will, but I never mention it to my inner circle. They must always know that I am strong, impregnable and omnipotent.

The trouble is that one day I might not be and that might be when they take me outside and shoot me.

Then again. That might be a blessing.

For them.

And me.

The Super Empath

the-super-empath

 

It is well known that our kind target those who have empathic traits. Just like those of my persuasion operate on a spectrum, those who exhibit empathy do so as well. There are those we might regard as the “normals” those people who have some narcissistic traits and some empathic traits. As ever, when I use the words empathic and empathetic I state them with reference to certain traits such as empathy (clearly), honesty, kindness, decency and such like. I do not use the words in the sense of being in tune with the world and the environment. The normal are in the centre, possibly leaning one way towards my kind or the other way towards your kind. It is extremely rare for a normal to be ensnared as primary source because put simply, they do not cut the mustard. Their emotional responses are not sufficient, their empathic traits whilst evident are not sufficient to either bind to us or provide us with the fuel that we need. Such a person would easily pass a homeless person begging, a person crying alone on a bench or somebody who had fallen off their bike and injured themselves. They are self-absorbed but not to the degree that our kind is. They will help if they really have to, but they do not go out of their way to act in a way that causes harm to anybody else.

Thereafter come those who are empaths. Empaths are always targeted as primary sources. They often fulfil secondary roles as well. They are rarer in a tertiary source position since if they are an empath, they would be better suited to either being a primary or secondary source. We would not want those empathic traits to go to waste. The empath has a good range of empathic traits those of honesty, decency, having a strong moral compass and being a good listener, just to list a few of them. They may not have all of the empathic traits that we look for, but they will have several and exhibit them in a concentrated form. Thus this person would look to donate to a charity, hand a wallet in that was found in the street, help a stranger who is in distress, sit and listen to somebody who has problems and acts of a similar nature.

Next comes the Super Empath. This person is not a co-dependent. Both the Super Empath and the co-dependent have many, if not all of the empathic traits that we look for and they have them to a stronger degree than the empath. For example, both might take the homeless person under their wing and take them to a shelter, maybe even house them themselves for a period of time. They would try and locate the person who had lost their wallet in order to hand it back in person rather than say hand it in at a police station first. They will listen to the person with problems and then offer practical solutions to resolve those difficulties. The co-dependent gains validation from such acts through giving and has to do this to an excessive degree even when it goes beyond what is good for themselves, such is their inherent addiction to the act of giving and selflessness. The co-dependent may not actually be that strong an individual (they are in the sense of the abuse that they can soak up) but they are not strong as they have no identity to assert, they must form one through self-flagellation, giving and not taking. They are masochistic in nature, driving themselves to the point of collapse and illness because they lack the strength to escape and the desire to do so from the clutches of our kind. Lesser Narcissists and Mid-Range Narcissists hook up with co-dependents especially because they give, give and give but do not fight back. They challenge themselves, blame themselves and always make excuses for their abuser.

The Super Empath is also a giver but whereas the co-dependent is masochistic in this giving, the Super Empath does so from a position of strength. They hold their ability to empathise, to heal, to fix and impart goodness as a great gift and one which ought not to be abused. They are drawn to our kind less because of the co-dependent’s need to seek validation of identity through a narcissist, but more because they are initially attracted to the apparent emotional output of the narcissist. The false strength which the narcissist exhibits at the outset of the seduction, the confidence, the apparent satisfaction with his self, that he appears comfortable in his own skin, at ease with others, capable of lighting up a room and so forth is a huge attraction to the Super Empath because that person actually sees something of themselves in the narcissist when the narcissist is seducing. That is not to state that the Super Empath is a narcissist. Far from it. But the Super Empath is just as engaging as the narcissist and thus there is a mutual attraction. The Super Empath is also more challenging to the narcissist and therefore is usually the recipient of some Mid-Range narcissists and most often the Greater Narcissist. This is not because the Super Empath is awkward or reticent but rather she will be forthcoming with her empathic traits once she feels that they have been earned. Accordingly, the narcissist must put the extra miles in, in terms of seduction to ensnare the Super Empath. This person needs to be coerced into sharing the fruits of their empathy but once that trust has been earned, once the gate has been unlocked the benefits are huge. The Super Empath shines with empathy, glows with decency and pours forth delicious fuel.

This continues during devaluation. The empath and co-dependent are easier to “break” in terms of causing negative fuel to flow. The Super Empath is made of sterner material and will resist the negative machinations of the narcissist at first. This may result in the narcissist dis-engaging if he does not feel able to impact on the Super Empath and seeking fuel elsewhere. The Greater knows who he has ensnared and knows once again he must unlock the fuel source, this time negative, of the Super Empath and once it is done the tidal wave of fuel is to be enjoyed. The Super Empath will remain, wanting to fix the narcissist, exhibiting again the same empathic traits of others on the empathic spectrum, but again being made of sterner stuff, their descent towards numbness and malfunction is far slower than that of the empath. The Super Empath will keep providing the fuel but deteriorates at a slower rate. The risk factor however with a Super Empath is that their own personal integrity is greater than the empath’s and very much greater than that of the co-dependent and consequently of all these three classes of empath, the Super Empath is the one more likely to make a bid for escape and thus leave the narcissist with a cessation problem.

The challenge of unlocking both positive and negative fuel proves an attraction for the right type of narcissist because this allows him to assert his superiority and enjoy the challenge. The reward is magnificent. Excellent fuel and such that deteriorates at a much slower rate. The downside is the potential for the Super Empath becoming “aware” of what is happening, becoming unwilling to dedicate further energy to staying with the narcissist to fix and to heal and thus escaping. The Super Empath requires fairly careful management by our kind, but the rewards always mean that this person is a challenge which is often accepted.