It is fair to state somewhat euphemistically that death is an inconvenience for everyone. In respect of my kind and me, it causes all manner of problems and issues which are especially irksome. Death generally only affects people in two respects. Their own death and the death of other people. Our responses to those two aspects are far-removed from that of the reactions of ordinary people and especially those of an empathic nature.
First of all, how do we regard the death of someone else. The demise of a stranger causes to response from us unless we realise that in order to maintain the façade that it would be advantageous to say “the right things” and come out with those empty platitudes that people do so often when they read of a tragedy somewhere. When this happens and somebody makes mention of some loss of life, perhaps the drowning of a toddler who was not being properly supervised and fell into a bath or the consequence of an aeroplane crashing, I observe the reactions of the collective with interest. There are the expressions of shock, the declarations of horror and how this is such a terrible event. As I watch and listen I do wonder who the greater charlatans are in this event. Is it me who does not care and cannot care but pretends to do so in order to maintain my precious façade or is it those who claim to care about somebody they never knew and would never have known?
If the death of someone is closer to home, a friend or a family member then my reaction is no different save that it is laced with irritation and indeed often anger at the loss of someone who was a source of fuel for me. If that person forms a supplementary source, then there is irritation at this loss but this person can readily be replaced with a new member rising to form part of my coterie. If the person who has been lost to the hand of the grim reaper is a primary source of fuel, then I am consumed with fury. How could this person treat me in this fashion? I gave them everything and then they leave me in the most complete fashion, with no chance of that sweet, sweet restoration. This departure amounts to a criticism of me, a reminder that even someone as great and powerful as I was unable to prevent the removal of a potent source of fuel. Thus this criticism ignites my fury and I rage at the injustice of their death. Some who witness this might mistake this response for an outburst of grief at the taking of this person. It is not that. It is the explosion of wrath at someone who was so potent to me escaping me and thus denying me my rightful fuel and denying me the opportunity to put in place a replacement. I do not mourn their passing away. I rage at the passing of my fuel source.
Do not expect to see me attend the funerals of those that are regarded as supposedly close to me and where my attendance might otherwise be expected. I will not be there. I know there are those of our kind who revel in the drama and the high emotion that is attached to a funeral and regard it as a honey pot for the acquisition of fuel. There are those of our kind who will hijack the occasion and make it all about them, wailing and shedding those false tears in order to draw well-meant sympathy from the other attendees. There are those of our kind who will create a scene at the funeral, arriving late, arriving drunk, collapsing part way through the service, making a snide remark in a loud stage whisper in order to draw reactions from everyone else that is there. Yes, many of our kind will attend and exhibit their over-acted grief purely to draw attention to themselves and away from the person who is now lying in the cold, hard ground. Our kind will express their huge sense of loss, how the deceased was such a wonderful father, caring mother, beloved uncle or best friend. Such a shameless performance which is carefully choreographed in funereal black to maximise the opportunity to have the spotlight shine on them and thus drink up all the attendant fuel. A disagreement will be provoked with another family member and harsh words exchanged. Over the top blubbing will take place with cries of “Don’t leave me!” as the coffin is lowered. The occasion of death and the attended ceremony provides a wonderful stage to our kind to perform our sick routines to make it all about us, fashioned from the pretence of actually caring. We do not care. We cannot care. We resent the fact that this person has escaped us. We resent the fact that everybody is turning out to pay their respects to the deceased and not training their attention onto us which is where it should belong. Should you ever witness melodrama at a funeral do not mistake it for the exaggerating effects of grief and loss, you are observing one of our kind milking the moment for all it is worth.
That is the response of many of our kind to the loss of a “loved one” or a “close friend” who has passed away after a full life or taken too soon. It is not my response. I have only ever attended one funeral in my life and that was the funeral of my father. I only broke my own protocol to do this as a consequence of the diktat from my mother and also at the behest of my younger brother who begged me to accede to her request so that she would not erupt and undermine the occasion of our father’s death. I duly obliged, just the one, purely in order to satisfy my desires however. I wanted to rein in my mother’s theatrics and watch how she really responded to the death and subsequent committing to another place of my father. You may well have read elsewhere in my works of that particular day. That was the only time that I have attended a funeral and I did it to further my own understanding and in order to loathe in my own private way the way my mother was behaving. That gave me tremendous satisfaction.
Thus, I only broke my protocol of non-attendance once and shall not do so again. Why is it that I will not attend funerals when there is such a prime opportunity to take centre stage and draw greedily on all the available fuel? It is a simple reason enough. I will not attend funerals because I do not wish to be reminded of my own mortality. Like a medieval monarch who stayed away from funerals, even of the preceding monarch and his own wives and offspring, because it would cause others to contemplate the death of the current monarch, something which was treasonable, I too will not attend. I have no desire to contemplate my demise. I do not want to recognise that one day all of this must end for this offends my notion of omnipotence. I do not wish to linger at the edge of the abyss that is life, staring into the nothingness of oblivion. Such is the finality of the mortal end to one’s existence, it engenders and raises the very prospect of that extinction that I fight against each and every day through the acquisition of fuel to maintain my construct and keep myself from being consigned into oblivion. To contemplate a mortal death is to invite the horrifying reality of the extinguishing of who I wish to be and that which I must not let happen.
I do not fear my mortal death for I will have my legacy in place and thus I shall live on through that. No, what I would rather not be reminded of, through the occurrence of the passing of others and the subsequent surrounding ceremony, is that I sometimes teeter on the brink on annihilation. The thought of that fills me with despair, only for myself and therefore I choose not to engage in that which will so forcefully and rudely remind me of it.
I know death embraces all eventually. I am not a foolish man and that is why I have worked to secure my legacy so that I may out stride death.
I care not, save for the loss of my fuel, when its cold hand snuffs out the life of others. Our type does not mourn the death of others. We are unable to do so. We are not equipped to achieve this. Never expect any sincere mourning to ever be evidenced by our kind.
I care not to contemplate what mortal death signifies for me in my ongoing struggle to keep such annihilation at bay.
22 thoughts on “Death”
Ever since my the mother of my uncle-in-law (who raised me – so we were close) died and I turned 30 yrs old, he has been mean to me. He used to idealize me and even sexualized our uncle-niece relationship in my 20’s (although when I was 31, he did say that he likes strong and independent women and he always would say that I am – so, it was just flatter). But it was just a switch for some reason. He is meaner more often to me and it appears easily now. He did tell me once to call him and keep him updated but I didn’t because of his hot and cold behavior.
So, why has the cerebral lower midrange narc (as per our narc detector consult) switch to cold remarks towards me ever since I turned 30 yrs old and his mom died (these 2 life changes happened in the same week actually)???
HIs shift in manipulation is nothing to do with your turning 30. The loss of an appliance in his fuel matrix will have some impact on the shift. The change however is primarily driven by his instinctive recognition that this form of manipulation is now more effective in serving his needs.
Thanks, HG! I see but I don’t understand how it will serve his needs better because I have become more distant towards him b/c of it – within these 2 years, I rarely call him now and I haven’t visited him in 2 years b/c of his behavior. My aunt saw his cold behaviors towards me and she became confused and mad so she reacted to it (defending me). He didn’t like that my aunt and I were talking a lot on the phone though. Then this drama occurred, and she became mad at me and ignored me for months. She did call and we do talk more but not as much as before the dramatic event.
Anyway, is this switch in manipulation more geared to the manipulation of his wife (my aunt) then?
If he still wanted my attention or admiration, then I would think that he would switch back because when he was idealizing me, I was admiring and praising him, not distant. Being a super empath, my distance probably wouldn’t be such a shock to you lol
HG, if you are No Contact with a narcissistic parent, what advice would you give for attending/not attending their funeral, especially when other siblings (also narcs) will be there and other, outer family members no nothing of our lives as children. Stay away and take the criticism. It’s a difficult one. Appreciate your thoughts on this dilemma, if you would be so good. Many, many thanks. x
Stay away and take the criticism. If you attend you will be called a hypocrite by some. Those who criticise do not understand and it is your life, not theirs.
Thank you very much. x
You are welcome.
hg I remember you said your mom is narcisssitic but your dad was not. Do you think most people that have narcissistic parents have one narcissistic parent or both parents are narcissistic? It seems to me like only one would be.
There will usually be one, sometimes two but that is much rarer.
Hello, H. G.,
I really love your writing. I am happy you went to your dad’s funeral. I have never read of you mentioning whether you have children.
At any rate, I hope you remain with us for many a year to come.
Thank you PB. I do not have any children.
What I have learnt is that grieving the loss of someone who passed away is not about death. It is about separating from someone we loved or we were emotionally or spiritually connected with. It is being aware that we will never be able to share (part of) our life with them again and a part of us is gone too. The pain is sometimes unbearable.
If narcissists are not able to connect at an emotional level with people or pets, it is understandable that they cannot grieve. Unless I have an emotional connection with someone, I will not miss them and will not feel any pain when they are gone. I did not grieve any of my narcissistic parents and did not go to their funerals. There was no connection except for being used and abused by them.
I have been so confused about the way my cerebral narc ex-husband reacted when his parents died. Like just saying goodbye after a visit. No tears, no feelings, no mourning, no nothing, not ever… He spend a lot of time with his father, who had cancer, drinking together, telling stories (mainly about the 2nd world war and all the women he cheated with..), going on a trip together. When his dad was on his deathbed, they shook hands and that was it. If there ever were any feelings he’d just drink them away, just like his parents tought him. Booze and drugs every day untill you almost pass out. That’s how you deal with feelings and emotions.
Did you love your father?
No. I do not know how to love anybody.
Did you once upon a time love him?
I think narcissists early on did love until something traumatic triggered that switch in them to turn that side of them off. Maybe not being protected from the abuses was that particular switch? In particular your aunts abuse? Just a theory.
I do think many narcissists loved at an early age but a trauma changed them psychologically and the defense mechanism was put into place.
Do you love yourself?
I think this is why you couldn’t accept or love other’s imperfections, because you were taught only perfection is “loveable”, but that’s not for mortals…You once told something I can’t forget about attachment and how wrong it is and why. In your mind, every angle you watch attachment from…it hurts, even if the other one loves you, she’ll still die one day so you don’t see the point in “loving”=weakness and “attachment”=hurting. You search for a rational motivation to love/attachment, still…there you stop, because some answers can get answered only through one’s feelings, not through his mind. Same way, I couldn’t understand how a car works through feelings, I had to use my brain in order to understand how an engine works.
Have you ever read “The Little Prince” by Antoine de Saint Exupéry? Seems a book for children but it is also for adults trying to better explain themselves/understand feelings.
No, I do not know what love is, but I have an excellent conceit of myself.
No, I have not read that book.
No offense to you HG as I hope you never die. You are a voice so many have yet to hear in the ongoing battle empaths face with the narcissist. That being said…I can’t wait for the death of the ex greater narc. It’s not that I believe I won’t still be infected in my mind. I will still be infected to some extent until I die. I just want the assurance that there will be no way for me to stumble again.
Different topic. I had an audio consult wth HG today. If there is anything in your mind thinking it may not be worth the cost, please reconsider. It was worth every singe cent. I was beginning to slide back into familiar territory and I knew I was in trouble so I reserved the consult. I had reserved an email consult earlier in the year and, while it was extremely beneficial for me, it does not compare to an hour audio. HG helped me immensely today and I am so grateful for this resource and his willingness to share what he is and how to stay away from him or those like him.
When I hung up I thought of it like this…when I have had respiratory infection, my doctor initially prescribes antibiotics. When I can’t breath and it gets more serious, I am given a breathing treatment with steroids. The email consult is an antibiotic. The audio consult is a breathing treatment with steroids. It is a shock to the system that causes you to heal faster.
I am in very strict no contact now. All of his numbers (mobile and office lines) are blocked. Email is blocked. No social media. No previous physical reminders. Many have told me to block him. I’ve never done it prior to today. HG gave me tools to rid the ex narc from my mind. It will take time but I have renewed hope that I didn’t have when I got out of bed this morning. Thank you, HG.
You are most welcome 12345.
Maybe that last paragraph was your answer to your feelings on your own karma.
I have known several narcissists who refused to discuss, contemplate or prepare for their own death. And the older they got, the less they would prepare. A good friends grandmother just died that way. She put off and put off finding her Will when she was dying of cancer. Then gave her self a fatal heart attack moving boxes searching for this Will before being hospitalized. Now her 3 narc children will fight tooth and nail and make a hay day for several lawyers trying to get it all for themselves.