Cold Comfort





It is a well-recognised trait of ours that we do not feel empathy. We know how to show empathy. You and others have exhibited this on many occasions so we understand the facial expression to adopt, the tilt of the head, the appropriate body language such as a hand on the arm or an arm around the shoulders. We have listened most carefully so we understand the phrases to trot out,

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Is there anything I can do to help; it must feel terrible.”

“I understand where you are coming from, believe me and just tell me how I can help you.”

“I know how you feel.”

“I would feel upset too if this had happened to me.”

I have watched people like you in action as they exhibit their empathic nature and I have scoured the internet as well to gather a few choice phrases there also. Put all of this together and our kind is able to exhibit a convincing display of empathy which will fool almost everyone. You will see this false empathy exhibited during seduction when we want to show you how we are a kind, caring and sympathetic person so you will feel drawn to us even more. We know the correct recipients of this false empathy as well, the sick, the elderly, the stray cat, the homeless, the earthquake victim, the child with the distended stomach because he has not eaten for days, the earnest looking villagers crowded around a newly sunk well and so on. Yes, I know all of those who need some empathic reactions and I will provide them in front of you so you are all the more attracted to me. So that I fit in.

It is, of course, all for show. I do not feel it. Not at all. Not one iota, speck or scintilla of empathy. Show me a report of some tragedy and my eyes will glide across the text as I register what has happened. Inside I feel nothing. There is no response. I do not feel sorry for the people involved in the aftermath of the hurricane. I do not imagine what it must be like for them and how they must feel. Certainly I am intelligent enough to know how they must feel but I do not put myself in their shoes. I do not imagine what it must be like for them. There is no pulling at my heart strings, a feeling of upset, despondency or even anger at the injustice they may have suffered. Of course as you seek my response from alerting me to this latest disaster I will form a furrowed brow, shake my head and issue some suitable words to make you think that I care. That is of course if I want your positive reaction whereby you look on approvingly at my supposed compassion. If I no longer seek positive fuel from you then I will use it as an opportunity to provoke you.

“And?” is usually a good starting point for drawing a reaction from an empathic individual to something terrible.

“What do you mean and? These people are homeless and injured. They live on a small island and have no power and no clean water.”

“What do you expect me to do about it? They shouldn’t live there then.”

“What? Do you really mean that?”

“Yes. Their choice. They have to deal with it.”

This will invariably provoke a stunned silence or protestations. You may follow me as I walk away asking me how can I not feel for these people. You may express anger or outrage and naturally this is what I want you to do. The fact is I feel nothing. If I see a charity appeal on television I am unmoved. I have nothing in common with the people who are requesting help. I cannot identify with how they must feel in any way. It is a total disconnection.

The situation is different with those who I interact with and especially those who are an intimate partner when I am devaluing you. If you are ill and wanting some support and those three dreaded words “tender loving care” I do not feel nothing. I feel an overwhelming sense of disgust and revulsion. How have I come to couple with someone so pathetic and weak? Why did I agree to live with someone who is sneezing, coughing and rasping? They are trying to infect me aren’t they? Trying to bring me down to their level. I know what their plan is and I will not be duped. I see no reason why I should waste my time and energy dealing with somebody like this. It is a drain on my resources and there is little or no fuel to be had. Moreover, the sense of disgust drives me to get away from you. I cannot stand to see such weakness, such illness and such infirmity. I must escape it and thus I will disappear, sometimes with an excuse and often without in order to avoid this horrific scene.

When you are upset, perhaps over a bad day at work or an argument with a friend and you tearfully explain what is troubling you, expect to be met with a shrug. What do you expect me to do about it? It is your problem, not mine. Sort it out yourself. If you persist pleading with me to listen and to help you then I become irritated at your commandeering my time in this manner. Do you not realise I have much to do myself? I cannot forgo my own machinations and fuel gathering to play agony aunt to your whinging and whining. Your pathetic concerns annoy me and you will can expect me to berate you in order to further your misery so I at least draw some negative fuel from your upset. That way the situation is not one which will be completely written off. If your upset is even greater following the loss of your job or a bereavement, we will show no regard for your feelings and indeed exploit your misery during our devaluation. We will take this opportunity when you are vulnerable to extract further fuel. That is what matters to us. We feel the need for fuel. We do not feel any compassion or warmth towards you and indeed your selfishness in concentrating on yourself when you should be attending to us infuriates us. We will suggest that you never bothered much with that family member when they were alive so why are you now getting upset when they have passed away? You cry about your sacking and we suggest that you deserved it because you were not working hard enough. We will extract that negative fuel from your tears, your hurt, your frustration and your anger and once that has been obtained we will leave you to it. We have got what we want and there are other things, notably other people we can better spend our time with, rather than remaining with you and being subjected to your self-centred pity. We know you find such an approach heartless and abhorrent but there is no hope for anything else. We do not feel compassion or sympathy. There is no need for us to fake it because we can draw negative fuel, we do not need to make you like us or admire us and provide positive fuel. This is how we have been created. This is the cold comfort that you will always receive from us whenever you have a moment of need, upset or anguish. Deal with it.

13 thoughts on “Cold Comfort

  1. Kathy says:

    Well this behavior is not exclusive to a narcissist.. I do the same sorts of things a lot when I intellectually know an empathic response is socially appropriate when I do not care. A lot of care-givers (physicians/nurses/social workers) employ this behavior because we are cognitively able to do so and it is an expectation of those receiving our services. We are certainly not all narcissists. We get tired and play the part, often functioning by means of acting like we care when we don’t. I actually have people I work with talk about these sorts of things at times. Caregiving is brutal if you really emotionally connect all the time for some of us with the ability to feel a more robust range of emotions than a stone cold narcissist.

  2. geyserempath says:

    Important lesson that I keep hammering in to remember. Narcissists cannot love. He did not love me. He didn’t love any of us. Sad to think he will die lonely and with few friends left.

  3. Weak moment says:

    HG- are you a parent? With no empathy, it would seem impossible to be a loving parent. Do narc parents lie when they tell us their daughter is everything to them?

    1. HG Tudor says:

      No I am not.
      It is a lie but they believe the lie.

      1. Insatiable Learner says:

        HG, if they believe the lie and really feel the love they say they do, what makes it a lie? Is it not the love the way they experience it?

        1. HG Tudor says:

          But it is not love. It is a self-serving appearance of what you believe love to be. They think they love, but they do not feel love. Further, the way the narcissist behaves towards that individual which may well result in devaluation is not the behaviour of someone who loves another.

      2. Insatiable Learner says:

        Thanks so much for opining, HG! I think the last sentence is really illuminating. If they truly loved another the way they say they do, they would not treat this individual the way they do, i. e. abusively. Thanks again! Really appreciate it!

      3. MLA - Clarece says:

        Hi HG! When growing up, was your Mother viewed by outsiders (as in other relatives or the other families through school) as very attentive, doting, and involved with you and your siblings? Did she project the image of a perfect family? I know she wanted that. Would it come to a shock to people if they knew about the emotional and verbal abuse you really suffered at her hands?
        I remember in one of your books you said your father described your outbursts as a teenager as just the angst ridden, hormonal teenage, rite of passage type phases. Did no one ever seek to uncover if it was you reacting to your mom’s treatment of you?

        1. HG Tudor says:


      4. Aj says:

        My ex MRN always talks about how his daughter is his world. He actually refers to her as his “baby”. He never calls her by her name it’s always “baby”. She’s 19 years old…

  4. Sandra says:

    He recently regaled me with a tale of having hosted a nature outing that was sanctioned by the Abstinence Program for recovering addicts.

    It was cold and rainy. The urban addicts complained about the elements. The free food they cooked themselves over a campfire was horrendous. Some ingrates challenged him. No attractive or usefully interesting folks outside himself to engage.

    I nodded approvingly at the story of his saintliness while keeping my narcspeak filter invisibly in place. He continued his story and basked in my copiously positive fuel.

    My 16 year old blind Yorkie had wandered to the road and was killed that morning.

    No, he doesn’t know.

    1. Jasmine says:

      I’m so sorry Sandra. 🙁

  5. blackunicorn123 says:

    Beautifully brutal.

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