The Mockery of Mimicry
I love to copy. I have to copy. It is all I have known for as long as I can remember. It is my natural setting to mimic those around me. I have to fit in, I have to belong and the most effective way for me to achieve this is to replicate everything that I come into contact with. If I interact with an esteemed academic I will listen to his or her achievements and then pass those off as my own as I peel away their glittering accolades and apply them to myself. Should I spend time with an exceptional sporting individual then their record-breaking endeavours will be purloined for my benefit and sported as my own in furtherance of my own belief in my exceptional ability. Author? Yes I have written books too. Model? Yes I do some modelling from time to time. Chef? You should try my signature dish, it is heavenly. Everyone I have dealings with presents me with an opportunity to copy an element of their personality. character or personae so that I may then present it as my own and in so doing I shine brighter and become an even more attractive prospect to those whose lives I effortlessly infiltrate.
This skill at mimicry enables me to ghost in and out of people’s lives. I know the social norms which are applicable and through careful examination and application I am able to pass as one just like you. I am a facsimile of a decent, personable and engaging individual and this allows me access to my targets without raising any alarms. My veneer of respectability has been fashioned from all those that I engage with, gathering patches, fragments, shards and pieces until they are hewn together and I drape it about me allowing me to come and go as I please.
It is however with you that I exhibit the astonishing mimicry of which I am a master. Once I have selected you as my target I have learned much about you already. With what will eventually be recognised as alarming ease, I replicate a fondness for all those things which you like and a distaste for all those things that you dislike. Think back and you will readily recall how I love horse-riding just as you did, that I enjoyed swimming in open water just like you and my passion for the works of Geoffrey Chaucer matched yours. Those interests which were close to you became interests that were close to me. Your appreciation of an excellent bottle of Chateau Margaux was matched by my ability to remember the applicable tasting notes and recite them to you as if it was my own appreciation. I would mimic the way you sat, copying your body language because I know, from extensive practice that this paves the way to bonding with you. I would mimic your speech patterns to form a sub-conscious link between us. I liked blue because you liked blue. I found listening to soul music an offence to my ears but I maintained a false enjoyment of it since you liked it so much. I actually enjoy choosing from the Crustacea bar but your dislike of seafood meant that I too turned lobster and oysters away. How often did you remark aloud, to me or to your friends,
“We have so much in common.”
“We like so many of the same things it is wonderful.”
“We share so many interests, I love it.”
“We are so well matched. On every level. We really are soulmates.”
Of course we are. I made it so because I wanted to be everything you wanted. I took your long list of likes and dislikes, your catalogue of loves and hates and your grimoire of hopes and fears and I copied each and every page. I am a walking photocopier and I copied everything you wanted in order to ensure that my seduction of you was successful, encompassing and absolute.
Yet, my astonishing powers of mimicry did not end there. Goodness me no, there was more yet to come. In a particularly unpleasant twist to this malevolent skill of mine I would mimic your responses to my devaluation of you but this time it would not be a complete facsimile, I would make a slight change to my copying so that you would be undermined even further.
When you stood there crying with frustration and I drank deep of the delicious fuel you provided me, I would raise my hands to my eyes and draw pretend tears on my cheeks and make a sobbing noise to humiliate you further. Here I was letting you know that I copied everything that went before yet now I copy again but not with the perfection I once exhibited. I allow the sting of sarcasm and the malicious mockery to infiltrate my copying of your behaviour so that your hurt and bewilderment was increased. You would shout at me and I would shout back using the exact words before standing and laughing at you as you burned with frustration, unable to find any response. You might stamp your feet in exasperation and I would do the same but with a leer of disdain writ large across my face.
There were times when you would scream. A terrified scream as my vicious manipulations would take their toll and as you tried to curl into a ball and hope you might just disappear and escape this nightmare, I would lean in close to you and mimic your scream into your ear, creating this fabricated falsetto of distress in order to further your own. Every reaction to my devaluation of you had the potential to be met by a mimicked reply from me in order to further your misery and demonstrate I did not treat your responses with any sincerity or concern.
I am the master of mimicry, the king of copying and the duke of duplication. I am a walking and talking photocopier machine. I put the rank in Rank Xerox.
30 thoughts on “The Mockery of Mimicry”
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Dearest K,
Thank you beautiful person … I really really appreciate your feedback
Ps … I really don’t like the idea of belonging to the narc …. he can get screwed blued and tattooed for all I care … haha
Mwah 💋
Luv Bubbles xx
This is was Mork from Mork and Mindy….accept he had a heart feeling and cared….Robbin Williams missed…..See Narc are Aliens….lol
Yes, my exhusband mimicked me crying or used a falsetto voice to parrot my words right back at him far too many times to count (and frankly I’d rather wipe them out of my memory). He did the drawing the fake tears on his face and fake crying, too. I can remember how horribly hurtful it was to me.
Of course that was when I was young, soft and naive and far less prone to violence. If he did something like that now, I’d probably either laugh or shoot him – depending on my mood. Thankfully he’s too smart now to push my fragile hold on sanity too far. 😆
I was out to lunch with a close friend yesterday and she was talking about how her daughter was having so much trouble with her husband, my friends SIL. There is no more intimacy between them and he’s taken up a series of bizarre activities that he goes all gung-ho into, like weight lifting, cycling, canoeing. Each one for a few months, then drops it for a new activity. We both knew exactly what it meant.
Dearest Windstorm,
Your first paragraph screams of the mindset of a bullying little boy…. playing pranks ….not a grown up professional. You should’ve “wiped his nose” instead of having to wipe your memory and told him to grow up. Drawing fake tears on his face …. what the ? Yes they do incredibly hurtful things
Second paragraph …. “laugh or shoot him” …. now that cracked me up especially the “shoot him” …..you know we can get away with things like that now …just say you’re on medication or forgot to take it …. it seems to be the “in” thing and you’re free …or you thought it was a bear in the woods … self defence 😂…. OMG what have I become … a psycho 😱
Third paragraph…. yeah … something not quite right there. I smell a narc rat🐀
Btw … thankyou gorgeous …. for the tart cherry juice idea … absolutely brilliant … even Mr Bubbles is indulging …. big thumbs up (anti inflammatory and sleep) … it also tastes great
Thank you dear lady and
Hugs to you
Luv Bubbles xx
I’ve seen this with my now ex-N. She has a new IPPS and now likes bodybuilding because he does. She has even attended bodybuilding shows. Such a complete opposite of who I knew her to be (who I thought I knew her to be).
… who you taught her to be, The Pale Horse 😉
I like that, Shesaw.
Hello again Shesaw. My mind keeps drifting back to your comment, ” who I taught her to be”. Very intriguing as I never considered that I taught her to be anything. Then, I remember what my brother once said about a prior ex-n. He said to me that the amount of time I was in her life is probably the only time she had or ever will again have stability. So Shesaw, you have my attention. Tell me what you have taught narcs to be and i will attempt to make connections to my narc entanglement. That is, if you accept this mission. 😁
My long-term greater cerebral narc. eventually overtook my personality and expected me to be an extension of him, liking and thinking only his way. When does that usually happen in relationships?
All ones with a Narcissist.
Wouldn’t that trigger devaluation?
Can you identify the “that” you are referring to please Twilight.
I aplogise for not being clear, the extension….liking and thinking of like the ex, or mimicking this? Doesn’t that trigger devaluation?
Potentially, albeit it depends if it is benign or malign.
Thank you HG.
Saving Grace
It starts happening during seduction; you may find this article helpful.
https://narcsite.com/2018/02/19/absorb-3/
Dear K,
Great referral .. I re read it .. sooooooo sooooo true
and that’s a “like” from moi 😊
Well done … goes hand in glove 🥊
Luv Bubbles xx
Thank you, Dear Bubbles!
I am so happy you found that referral helpful. We are subsumed and we no longer exist as a separate individual; we belong to the narcissist.
“like” right back at you!
Thanks again!
Luv K xoxox
Thank you, K, for directing me to H.G’s article titled “Absorb.”. I read it and it made a lot of sense. I had to think back 34 years to recall those experiences, and sure enough, I could see the patterns relating to what H.G. wrote.
My pleasure, Saving Grace!
And, I am happy to read that it made a lot of sense. When you go back through your memories, you can see the patterns very clearly and you begin to truly understand what it was all about. Fuel.
Yes, K, and being fuel is so depersonalizing. You don’t go in someone’s garage and talk about what kind of amazing fuel they have in their red plastic container for their new top of the line riding mower. You tak admirably about the wonderful tool that uses the fuel. BUT, as we have learned, the tool won’t run without the fuel. It can just sit empty for a while.
Saving Grace
Objectification is very depersonalizing and I am working on being as fuel free as possible and I can run on empty just fine.
K., perhaps my reply was misunderstood. If empaths are considered fuel, then the tools that use that fuel can’t function wwll without us after a while. Maybe it’s good for the tools (narcs) to experience low fuel if we so decide (gray rock, no contact.) Take back our power.
No disrespect intended.
Saving Grace
Ha ha ha…got it! I misunderstood, indeed, thank you for clarifying.
Dear Mr Tudor,
This is a massive massive red flag and so well written
The weasel only ever drank beer whereas Mr Bubbles and I are wine lovers and are wine club members. The weasel tried to copy us numerous times and ended up as drunk as a skunk …. what a Cadbury😂
I asked him why he drank wine if it made him feel sick and he replied “I don’t know” …..seriously?
I’ve noticed he “now” drives the same colour car as mine (he copied Mr Bubbles colour in his last car as well)
The only thing he will never have is Mr Bubbles height…. over 6′ …. the dwarf is 5′ 2′ 😂
Really really good article Mr Tudor …. watch out for copy cats
Thank you
Luv Bubbles xx
Yup I remember him watching me. I remember him quizzing me on important detail of an independent opinion I had so he fully understood it to regurgitate it as his own. He never really debated with me. Word salad but no debate that changed a view.
He suddenly like orchids – I found out they were her favourite.
He hated jazz but went to a jazz eve coz of her.
Oh how I wanted him to indulge me but realise now it was all mockery even for the IPPS.
I understand now.
The joy in destroying me is the fuel.
I really found this hard to read.
Is this the same for both primary and secondary fuel sources?
Similar.
well maybe it’s high time you found out who you were x