The Grief, The Whole Grief and Nothing But The Grief

THE GRIEFTHE WHOLE GRIEF ANDNOTHING BUT THE GRIEF

 

Grief. You may think that this is an alien concept to our kind. It is and it is not. On the one hand we do not feel grief but we do understand what it is and what it engenders in other people especially those who are empathic in nature and who have been entangled with us. We have watched with an almost child-like curiosity when you have received news about the passing away of a relative. If this happened during the golden period, you at least received some false empathy in the shape of some fabricated support and understanding to make it look as if we at least cared in some way. If your pet died during the devaluation, a long-loved pet, then we will have watched your display of sadness, longing and grief with contempt and jealousy. We would not have supported you but instead said something to provoke you such as,

“I don’t know why you are so upset, it’s just a dog.”

So that you focused on us again rather than wallow in your own grief. We have witnessed grief in others, observed and learnt how it is displayed. We have listened (when it served a purpose for us) during the golden period as to how it makes you feel and stored all of this information away. We do not feel grief. We may exhibit is for the sake of appearances if this will garner fuel for us and to preserve the façade, but it is never felt. You however experience grief in an intense fashion, given your capacity to feel and to empathise. We have seen your grief over a deceased relative, a friend taken suddenly and violently in a car crash, the celebrity who you adored who has passed away after a long battle against illness. We know just how capable you are of grief and we know that not only does it have the potential to be a potent source of fuel but we recognise its paralytic effect on you. Grief takes a hold and has the capacity to prevent you from functioning effectively. Not only that, its paralysis is such that it can prevent you from escaping this state of grief, keeping you locked-in a grieving mode, unable to move forward. Grief is an intense emotion. We have seen this. From the wailing cries of a parent being told that their child’s body has been found after they have disappeared to the dignified grief of a war veteran stood in silence with a single tear trickling down his or her cheek as they pay tribute to their fallen comrades. Whether noise or silence accompanies this grief it remains a powerful emotion and naturally one that our kind is keen to draw on for the purposes of extracting fuel. We see grief as serving two functions. Keeping you in a state of paralysis and therefore it follows that you will keep pumping out potent negative fuel for us to extract.

Now, I am not suggesting that I will embark on some kind of killing spree slaughtering your pets, taking down your favourite celebrities and murdering your friends and family, in order to create this repeated state of grief. Whilst one might see certain attractions in doing so, the effort involved and moreover the considerable downsides to such a course of action mean that it is not one that we would embark on. No, instead there is an alternative way of looking to create an enduring state of grief on your part. We want you to grieve for us.

This does not involve us taking our own lives. We rarely commit such an act. We will threaten it, certainly, as part of a hoover, but we regard the world as needing us and therefore we will extremely rarely commit suicide. We will however cause you to grieve for us and we do this when we eventually discard you after a harsh devaluation. When this discard takes place we will leave you with three losses over which you will grieve. Your grief will be prolonged because there are three losses and thus this maximises not only the prospect of paralysis but also a longer period of the provision of potent fuel.

The first loss is the loss of who you thought we were. You were seduced and swept off your feet by this charming individual who mirrored everything you liked and disliked. We ticked all the boxes, we professed to be your soulmate, we gave you a perfect love, made every day special and had you excited to see us and hear from us. We created such a wonderful start to the relationship, unlike anything that you had experienced before. We understood you, we cared, we showed you such passion, we listened and engaged in those things which you always wanted to share with someone else. We wrapped ourselves around you, permeated your very core and entwined our lives so that you were never happier and you could never comprehend a time when such delicious rapture would end. But it did and how.

The loss of something so brilliant and splendid hurts you and feels like you have suffered a bereavement so intense and painful is the experience. Even though you hear the words that it was an illusion, that none of it was real and that you need to let go, it is still so hard to accept all of that and you miss us. Oh how you miss us. You miss that wonderful person we were at the beginning and you want that person back. No matter how many times you are told that he or she was just a creation, that it was an illusion designed to fool you and that we never loved you and never meant or felt anything we said to you, it is still incredibly hard to accept. Just like someone who cannot accept that someone who has died will not walk through the door at any minute, you cannot accept for a considerable time that the person you thought we were has gone. We know what you will be thinking (because we have caused you to think and feel this way) and although we may not always see your grief-ridden response to our absence we know what you will be thinking and feeling and this fuels us. Even greater is the fuel from your messages telling us you miss us, that you want the “old me” back and begging for another chance. Your grief for loss of the person that you thought we were, is both huge and prolonged.

The second loss that you sustain and grieve for is the loss of the potential that we showed to you. There was no doubting that we were brilliant at our job. You saw the plaudits and you felt the benefit, for a time, of the accompanying pay cheque. You saw the trophies amassed for our various achievements in different fields and you heard other people speak so highly of our accomplishments. The compassion, kindness and love that we showed to you and to others (although false) still causes you to think that somewhere we are truly capable of this goodness, if only we would harness it and let it be free. You have witnessed two things. The reality of our drive to be the best and the accompanying good that such drive and ambition brings – a surgeon saving lives, a scientist inventing cures, an entrepreneur creating wealth and jobs, a policeman making the neighbourhood safer, a teacher educating so many people to a high degree – means that our rampant desire to be the best has the considerable potential to actually do good for others. You also saw something in terms of the way that we treated you and as an empathic individual you still believe that this goodness can be freed and used to both our benefits so that we are both happy together. You came to regard us as a wounded and hurt person and in conjunction with your innate desire to heal and fix, you felt that if you could heal us then the mutual benefits would be amazing. There was so much potential waiting to be unlocked and utilised and now with our departure and your discard, that potential has been lost. You grieve this loss of opportunity and how things might have turned out oh so different. You want to turn back the clock, do things differently and the inability to do so causes you considerable grief and pain.

The third area of grief which you sustain from coupling with us is not grieving over us, but it stems from being with us and that is grieving the loss of your identity. Before we came along you were happy, independent, strong, bright, well-liked by family, friends and colleagues. You had many interests and you enjoyed life. Yes, there were flaws and vulnerabilities but you handled them as best you could as you forged a path through life knowing who you were. Then we came along.

We subsumed you into us. We eradicated your characteristics as we either stole them for our own construct to show the world or we eroded them through the steady application of our vicious manipulations. Your confidence evaporated, your self-esteem disappeared and your self-worth plummeted. You became steadily isolated, losing friends, neglecting your interests and even become distant with family. You allowed yourself to be fully consumed by us. It was entirely understandable how this happened because we wanted it to happen and we acted in a manner to cause it to happen, but nevertheless your loss of identity was a steady and insidious consequence of the grip we held over you. Now, as you sit alone, ruminating on what once was, grieving the loss of who you thought we were, the loss of the potential, you are also hit by the loss of who you were. You no longer recognise that face which stares emptily at you in the mirror each morning. The world is grey and drab, music sounds harsh and grating, conversations irritate and make you fearful, even your favourite foods taste like ash in your mouth. You have lost yourself and the sense of foolishness from allowing this to happen and the grief arising from such a loss is substantial.

This triumvirate of grief arising from entangling with us provides us with substantial fuel and we know that burdened by not just one or two, but three forms of grief, it will take you a long time, if ever, to escape the effects.

16 thoughts on “The Grief, The Whole Grief and Nothing But The Grief

  1. PhoenixRising says:

    Yes, I am still grieving. Grieving for the person and friend he once was, the one that apparently was fake. I grieve for the fact that I was right when I said he didn’t care about me, and that after he promised to make time for me and talk with me, he never did. One month later, I am still grieving and wishing I were wrong about who he really is.

  2. angela says:

    yes…but dont worry….we are the winner..not the empty N…a lot of people who cry now one day stop and start to shine..to love..to feel..not like the N ..they need people like me..like us..the poor victim.
    we are the winner

    1. robins359 says:

      Yes. . . Yes we are!!! 😉

  3. robins359 says:

    “I don’t know why you are so upset, it’s just a dog.”

    This still makes me mad! I had a cat for 17 years. She got very sick and I had to put her to sleep. (they came to my house and she died in my arms) A few days before it happened I told him how heart broken I was and that I didn’t know why I was telling him this as I knew he didn’t care. My cat never liked him. . . she knew!. He shows up at my work the next day and I thought he was going to give me a hug and say something comforting but instead I got “it’s just a cat!” If I hadn’t been at work I would have slapped his face. GRRRRR

  4. CJF says:

    Ex grieved over the pets more then he did over his mother dying. Seriously weird. Why is that? Is it mislearnt responses to the death of pets and then a complete lack of understanding about how to deal with mothers death? I felt unable to openly grieve my own mother as I felt I would be looked down on.

    1. HG Tudor says:

      I suspect that it served a better purpose for him to grieve over the pets than it did his mother and thus that is how it manifested.

  5. ANK says:

    A quote I came across – ‘one of the hardest things you will have to do is grieve the loss of a person who is still alive’.

    We grieve over the Narc, and we grieve over ourselves too.

    1. robins359 says:

      Sad and true.

  6. blackunicorn123 says:

    How you have identified and described the losses….spot on. When you see it written down like that…it is beautiful in its savagery…in an oddly twisted way.
    I am coming out the other side, but I am still awestruck at the complexity and simplicity of it all. I had to read the neuro science, about dopamine addiction, etc. to help me understand – but you instinctively know all of it!

  7. Sophie says:

    Your column was extraordinarily spot on, as usual. My narc manage to multiply the grief by doubling down on the devaluation during the death my parent. I never understood the timing, until now.

    1. HG Tudor says:

      Thank you.

  8. Patricia J says:

    Crocidiles shove their kill under a rock shelf for later, when lsupply is low. Then they will return.
    This tbought today is enough to keep me from grieving.

  9. Mandy says:

    I would like to add “the future”..b/c of the future faking and plans..i feel I also lost that. I was planning on moving, we were going to buy a house, small business, have a baby…he sucks!!!

  10. Patricia J says:

    Not this Toaster.

  11. Ostara says:

    Thank you. This really hit home, I realise I’m still grieving (damnit!) 3 months no contact. Some days are really hard. Wa wa :,(

    1. robins359 says:

      10 months for me, and while it’s getting easier, I still grieve once in awhile. I read somewhere that it takes about 18 months to get rid of it. sigh

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