Shoot You Down
A plaintive wail which I often hear is along the lines of,
“Why do you always have to shoot me down? I give you everything you could ever want. Why can’t you just be happy with that?”
As usual you delude yourself with such a statement. You do not give me everything I could ever want. You think that you do, but that is the self-centredness that you often exhibit creeping in once again. You certainly care, I will grant you that, but you make the mistake of assuming what you do is what we want. What we want is fuel. I know what comes next.
“I always told you how much I loved you, I admired and complimented you often and frequently. How much more could I make you feel good about yourself?”
Therein lies the problem. No matter how good your intentions and how frequent your worship of me, my kind and me will always grow tired of it. We have heard your kind words and seen your appreciative gestures too many times and it, well, it just does not do it for us anymore. I am sure that you emotionally in touch people would be the first to complain if a long established partner engages in the same routine in the bedroom. It does not hit the spot anymore does it? Well, it is just the same for us. You may ultimately accept that things cool somewhat in the bedroom and I know from what I have seen and heard that you trade this passion off (although not always, there are some sexual thrill seekers amongst your kind) for other qualities that you find attractive – humour, companionship, security, warmth, good parental skills, intelligence and such like. There is no hope for any such trade with us. We only want one thing from our relationship. Fuel. We do not care (ultimately) how good-looking you are, how much of a whore you are between the sheets, how wonderful a mother you may be, what a raconteur you are or how much you earn. We will never accept those things or anything else as a substitute for fuel. True enough, the more aged of our kind sometimes accept these things when their need for fuel diminishes but that need never goes away. They may decide to accept these attributes alongside largely positive fuel, but they will still need to stir things up from time to time.
That is not going to happen with me. I am at the peak of my powers and therefore my need for fuel remains substantial. There can be no substitute for it at all and nor can there be any co-existence between the provision of fuel and other attributes. It is fuel or nothing. In order to achieve this I have to shoot you down because once that is done you start to flow with the potent negative fuel and my cravings start to be addressed. You can beg and plead with me, you can point out how you will always only ever have eyes for me, you can express your love, desire, adoration and admiration on an hourly basis but there comes a point when it just does not have that sweetness anymore. It is then that I pull the handgun from my jacket, attach the silencer and fire several vitriolic bullets into you. Your pain from these wounding bullets gives me the fuel that I need and therefore your shooting is necessary. Moreover, it is your punishment for letting me down. You really ought to be capable of pleasing me the whole time but so far, all that I have chosen have failed. That is why I now expect you to fail and have that gun to hand at all times.
When I shoot you down, I become more powerful as the fuel flows from you. Moreover, it is easy to get someone to admire and adore. Those reactions come naturally to your kind. It is far harder to extract tears, anger, frustration and regret from the empath. Managing to do so imbues your emotional reaction with greater potency, your fuel becomes supercharged and this is what we want. We cannot shoot you down from the beginning, we need you stood on a pedestal first, after all, you present as such an inviting target then and your toppling as the bullets slam into you becomes all the more satisfying.
I sense your dismay as you read this. You had hoped that by keeping me sweet and onside through a dazzling and tireless display of love, affection and admiration you had hoped to avoid such an attack. Your concerns should not be absolute. There is an upside you know. Firstly, when we find someone else after we have shot you down, keep in mind they will eventually be riddled with bullet holes no matter how happy we both appear at first. It is coming to them as it came to you. I am sure that makes you feel a little better doesn’t it? Secondly, there is a huge saving grace.
We never shoot you dead.
We need you alive so we can raise you up again as we re-load.
10 thoughts on “Shoot You Down”
Obviously no empath will ever succeed in preventing devaluation from happening, so why do you even get your hopes up, as you’ve said you do when you embark on embedding a new IPPS, that this latest IPPS will be “the one”? It’s clearly not going to happen. I’m curious, though. As a hypothetical, what might an IPPS do to prevent devaluation? How else might she provide you with that potent, supercharged negative fuel that you crave so? Is there a way for her to act preemptively before devaluation begins, assuming she has awareness of who you are? I suspect that the answer is that there is no way for this to happen in reality, but I’m curious about it hypothetically. Excellent post per usual, HG, though it does leave a feeling of absolute hopelessness and futility. Can’t win for losing 😢
Thank you Taryn.
Hello HG! Splendid work you do, really appreciated all the posts so far and learned about myself much more than I used to think I know. Now, I’m a narc and I have a riddle. I’ve been carless/wanted to show my, for now, former IPPS my new fuel source in fagranti. Since then, I’m in the process of BH and we had intercourse recently. But, I’m in a bit of conundrum. I analyzed my IPPS behaviour and I suspect she is a narc too. Let me explain:
1. Before me, she had casual relationship with one of my ‘friends’, but I succeded in hoovering her so she ditched the guy. Few weeks later, the guy had an accident and called me for help. I reacted worrily and wanted to help (to obtain some more fuel) but she kind of dissmised it: ‘he will manage and call someone else for help’ were her words.
2. She had a crush abroad and went to see him but said nothing really happened, the chemistry wasn’t there, but she fantasised about him months later. Later on, when I was at her summer house, she texted him, inviting him to her place. I managed to see the texts and confronted her but she answered ‘he’s just a friend and I invited other people too’ and showed me those texts also. Alibi play, if you ask me.
3. She considers herself an empath, but when her friends’ child was in hospital, she posted it in their messenger group, and my IPPS reacted with ‘this isn’t an appropriate group for this, they have their parents group for that. And, the baby has nothing serious going on’. Much empathy 😀
4. Since we broke up, she started to text that ‘friend’ from the accident again, to help her fix something in her flat. He is in a relationship now wih a new girlfriend, and my IPPS befriended her, saying to her that he’s a good guy, and simultanuosly telling him ‘ don’t mess this one, she’s a catch’. She even showed me the conversation between her and the new girlfriend in which they both praised the guy. Sneaky involvement, don’t you think?
What do you think, HG?
Hope this conundrum is interesting enough for you!
Keep up the good work!
This reminds me of a nightmare I had last night; the Narcissist was attempting to humiliate and destroy me, as usual. I finally had. had. enough. I. snapped. In lightening-like speed, I rose my leg up, higher than my head, and in my rage, I finally gave it to him (and it felt sooo good)! Simultaneously, I woke up to my leg kicking out, above my head, off the side of my bed, and down crashed my nightstand, and everything on top of it. (And, that felt really good, too).
In other words, I fantasized about kicking him.
It’s true that it “doesn’t hit the same spot anymore”. That’s because there’s no longer any “companionship, security, warmth…” in the relationship. Without those, sex loses its luster. For some. For me.
Sex comes from my soul. After so many soul-destroying triangulations and silent treatments, I had nothing left to give to him because I had nowhere to give from.
Lisk, yes, exactly. What once was intense and sweet, becomes cold and mechanical. No longer enjoyable for a warm-blooded empath. It doesn’t change for them, because it’s their game.
Pure evil …..