The Relational 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 splendid isolation then my inner sanctum remains preserved and so do I.

16 thoughts on “The Relational Tower

  1. ProfTomBot says:

    Such a wise narcissist. And I’m not just saying that to make you feel good about yourself. You do that for yourself on your own better than I ever could. Haha 😉

  2. Jenna says:

    Hi hg,

    “I fashioned the thick timbers of the door from projection, the timber bolted together through triangulation… ”

    This is very interesting. I will comment about this sometime.

    Does the discarded intimate source have a dark purple line or a thin and stretched gold line emanating from her? Ty.

    1. HG Tudor says:

      Nobody is discarded Jenna as you well know!

      (Dark purple).

      1. jenna says:

        The ‘dark purple’ did not show up in my email, but showed up here on this page. I thus was delighted to see an answer to my question, which came in pieces, and in brackets, and it left me somewhat intrigued. You do know how to work it, though it may simply be answering a question. This skill of yours is deadly.
        I guess i know i was disengaged from, but i really think this measly mid ranger will not have the courage to contact somebody who knows alot of his secrets. If he does, it will be in like 30 yrs the way sarabella’s narc did. That’s why i like to call it a discard. I guess it is a disengagement after all, technically speaking.

  3. Pam says:

    Dear HG

    Wow. Fantastic writing.
    Break my heart.
    Yes let me cradle he has the warmth and stability
    to look inside himself
    and know just a wee bit at a time, not too much, but just enough to wish to return for a tad more

  4. Kathleen says:

    I recently discovered that the people in my narcissist called her best friends are people that she never really shares any real honesty with. They didn’t know that I existed for four years. They didn’t know how many jobs she’d been fired from. They were fed lies about her previous X to demonize her. I just can’t comprehend how are human appears to have absolutely nobody if they confide truth with.
    HG is it because they never need any advice from anyone on how to handle things? Is it because they never need to bounce thoughts to see if what they are thinking is crazy or not? That’s why I talk to my friends… Of course my mind works differently I understand. I like to get input and kind of “check myself “… I guess looking back it seems my narcissist never wanted any input or it was ignored

  5. Bubbles 🍾 says:

    Dear Mr Tudor,
    This picture conjures up images to me of Rumpelstiltskin dancing around his cauldron.
    My weasel lives on high ground ( I call it “old horror hill” ) overlooking all beneath him. I bet he feels 10′ tall (cos he’s a short arse) …he also drives a big car. Short man syndrome… haha

    He’s got windows and doors closed and covered up…. it’s like a cave! You have to fight your way through.
    You can barely breathe .. I used to go in, open up doors and windows and let the sunshine in …… and the blue bird of happiness .. 😂
    Your similarities just keep on. His whole being was bad enough let alone his inner sanctum…. pretty sure it’s empty, one big black hole, no thanks
    Thank you again, this article explains heaps

    1. Carol M says:

      Indeed, however, Rumple is not a Narc. He waited for three hundred years to be reunited with his son, who he loved dearly. Belle, on the other hand, is obviously a covert narcissist. She is always right, she mades up the rules to her convenience, she has double standards about everything and she is always the victim. Sounds familiar?

      1. Bubbles 🍾 says:

        Thank you Carol
        Sorry, I should’ve clarified, I was referring to looks only … my weasel is a cross between rumple and an ugly garden gnome …. haha

      2. Carol M says:

        Oh no, thank you Bubbles! Good to know someone besides me also makes crossroads between real life and TV shows, lol!
        All love to you <3

      3. Bubbles 🍾 says:

        Dear Carol,
        I relate to fantasy fiction movies as well ( always the bad evil ones). You don’t know whether to laugh or cry, if all this wasn’t true, anyone would think we made it up.
        I also call him the “weasel” because they appear cute n cuddly, but are little nasty, aggressive, scheming critters. They’re deceitful, conniving and cunning. They do war dances to confuse you and are mean blood thirsty killing machines. They have non retractable claws. They eat frequently, so they kill more and save their leftovers in abundance . They do whatever it takes to escape a fearsome situation and leave a foul scent behind. The male has multiple females and doesn’t provide parental care. They are active day and night.
        Does this remind us of anyone ? I have lots of other names, some NFP … 😱😂
        Love right back 💜

  6. W says:

    This is very interesting. I always said, my ex UMR, felt to me like “the IT guy”, everything good was happening in his presence. Just being in his presence was like being exactly where I ever wanted to be.
    Of course I was DLS so, I could never get enough, and wasn’t devalued.

  7. Lori says:

    You know HG this is where I find codependent/empaths are remarkably similar to narcs. You write “I know what you want” I can’t speak for all empaths but I have always had a gift at anticipating or knowing the wants and needs of others. Many people have said that I seem to be able to sense the feelings of other even when they attempt to hide them.

    Do you think that is why a Narc prefers a codependent so much?

    1. HG Tudor says:

      Not primarily.

    2. abrokenwing says:

      Apparently we are great pretenders Lori.

    3. Julie Petkovska says:

      Hi Lori
      what you describe is an Intuitive Empath, we are very rarely co dependants. Our people reading skills & gut instincts are quite extraordinary but we do fall prey to manipulatons and control but nowhere near as detrimental or to the extent as a co-dependant, I would say. We have narcissistic traits but we are not narcissists…
      may the force be with you!!

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