Why Must The Narcissist Always Mess With Your Mind?
The sudden silences. The periods of no communication when before the airwaves crackled with the send and return exchange of text messages. The repeated calls throughout the day to talk of something and to talk of nothing, now gone and empty. The absence of a morning greeting. The absence of any greeting. Just absence. Cold and unremitting silences which stretch from hours, to days, to weeks. What was once there has been banished. What’s it all for? Perhaps he just wants some time alone?
The inability to ever say sorry. The frustrating failure to ever issue an apology, it is as if those words cannot be formed or do they manifest but something causes them to freeze so they never find the light of day? The denial of fault, the deflection of blame, the resolute and forthright rejection of any accountability. All you want is to hear her say it the once, to say sorry, to hear that admission and sense some humanity exists there after all. What’s it all for? Perhaps she believes that I will think less of her if she apologises to me?
The never-ending carousel of blame and accusation. The merry-go-round of that dizzying discussion which never reaches fruition. The whirling array of “I never said that”, “you do the same”, “you can’t keep accusing me” and so much more leaves you disorientated and nauseous. Just once, just one time, can’t something be resolved without this round-the-houses farce? Must it always be this way? Why is nothing ever put to bed? Why is everything buried alive? What’s it all for? Maybe he just doesn’t understand me, perhaps I need to be clearer about what I mean?
The broken engagements. The no-shows. The promises to meet and then the failure to appear leaving you upset, annoyed and miserable. He promised. He promised that this would not happen again. The frequent ringing and all you receive is the notification that the cellphone you are calling is not available right now. Where is he? Has he forgotten? He cannot have done, you spoke to him only four hours ago to remind him of the arrangements, especially after what happened last time. You miss him and you were so looking forward to spending the night together after a period of not being able to do so. Surely he should have remembered? The chasing messages “Where are you?”, “Are you near?”, “I have been waiting twenty minutes, where are you?”, “What’s happening, I am worried”. What’s it all for? Perhaps he has had to work late, or he is stuck on the subway or he has run out of charge for his ‘phone?
The repeated alterations to arrangements. The tears, the shouting, the disappointments, the rolling out of false explanations to try to ease their upset. Yes, he did say he would take you out today, he must be caught up with something else, why don’t we do something instead? How can he let the children down like this? The turning up without agreement and demanding to see the children. Forcing you into a corner in order to placate him so the children are not scared. You back off again and again. Always you making the compromises. Always you trying to explain away the increasingly unexplainable. The arguments about the arrangements, the lies about what was arranged, the confusion over details. What’s it all for? Is he going mad? Maybe you are?
The insults and slurs, the nasty words, the harsh put-downs and the savage comments. The vicious text message tirades sent at 3am, the blistering verbal attack down the telephone, the dressing-down in person just before a night out. The personal cutting remarks, the swear-words, the name-calling and the labelling. So hurtful, so demeaning, so upsetting. What’s it all for? Perhaps he just doesn’t love you anymore?
The chopping and changing. Last week’s steak had to be well done and now it has to be bloody. How were you expected to know, but you were? The eruption and the tantrum which followed demonstrated that you were the one to blame. Red is good, now it is bad. No soda with the vodka, but now he is banging doors and shouting because there is no soda. Sit there, no there, be quiet, say something, leave me alone, you never speak to me much these days, do it like that, no don’t do it like that, who taught you to do this it is brilliant, who taught you to do that you are an amateur, back and forth, push and pull, right then wrong. What’s it all for? Perhaps he just cannot remember or just wants to keep changing for the sake of it? Perhaps the pressure of work is really getting to him these days?
The argument over nothing. The argument out of nowhere. The argument when everything was going well. Why is she angry all of the time? Nothing is ever right but rather than discuss it in a civil manner and be reasonable with one another, there always has to be a fight. She could start an argument in an empty room. She seems to thrive on creating a scene. So many days, so many occasions, so many events all spoiled by the epic tantrum which she throws. What’s it all for? Perhaps she has anger management issues?
The sudden bouquet of flowers. The expensive perfume. The sudden trip away to somewhere exotic and exciting. The sensitive poem carefully written in copper plate and placed under your pillow. The sudden proclamations of love. The dizzying romance. The grand gestures. What’s it all for? He must really, really love me.
The accusations, the challenges, the pointed finger and the sneer. The demands for the truth when you are telling the truth. The inquisition and the interrogations over anything and nothing. The way you answered the phone, the way you wear your dress, the friends you said you were visiting, the time you came home. Always the questions, the allegations of lying, cheating and skullduggery. Every time this happens when you want to do something and he never seems to realise he does all of these things himself. What’s it all for? Perhaps he is just possessive because he cares so much?
The lies. The tales. The fabrications. Every day a new boast which is so outrageous that she must surely know she is telling a porky pie. The flagrant omissions of the truth. The repeated protestations that this is the truth even when you know she is lying again. The lies when the truth would serve her better. The inability to know she is lying. The fact she really does seem to believe her lies are her truth. What’s it all for? Perhaps she is just a born liar and a fantasist?
The disappearances whenever you need help. The excuses that he has something else more important when you require support. The sudden coldness when you call and explain how you have been bullied at work again. The distant look and the eye-rolling as you try to explain why you are crying. The sudden lack of availability when you need a hand. The fact you must fend for yourself even though you are too weak to stand and feel dizzy. The shirking of responsibility, the rejection of assistance and the distancing when you are injured. What’s it all for? Perhaps he just cannot stand the sight of blood or does not know what to do when somebody is ill?
The flirting, the staying out late, the drunkenness, the drugs, the gambling, the smell of perfume on his clothes, the receipts from lap-dancing bars, the hours and hours and hours spent watching porn online, the obsession with his video games, the sudden and mysterious trips away. What’s it all for? Perhaps he has an addictive personality?
The tears, the pleading, the begging, the demand for one more chance, the assurances that it will never happen again, the promises to get help, the panic in his eyes and the wailing from his mouth. The neediness, the repeated requests to make things right, the long involved explanations, the repetition of how we should be together and how good we are for one another, the promises, the future, oh the promises of what the future can hold for us both. What’s it all for? Perhaps he is broken and you should not walk away from someone in such need?
Maybe he struggles to express himself?
Maybe he just has never had anybody stand up to him?
Maybe she has problems with trusting people?
Maybe he is just disorganised?
Maybe he struggles with being a single parent?
Maybe he cannot help how he feels?
Maybe he is indecisive?
Maybe he feels unappreciated?
Maybe he really does love you?
Maybe that’s his way of loving you?
Maybe she is just different?
Maybe he doesn’t love you anymore?
Maybe he can’t help but feel jealous because he really does love you?
Maybe she tells lies to make herself feel better?
Maybe he struggles with responsibility?
Maybe she is tired?
Maybe he is lost?
Maybe she is over-worked?
Maybe he is stressed?
Maybe you don’t know what you are entangled with?
Maybe you make too many excuses for them?
What’s it all for?
26 thoughts on “Why Must The Narcissist Always Mess With Your Mind?”
I appreciate all of your work that explains fuel.
This piece expertly shows the impossible task of trying to meld two diametrically opposed goals and operating systems in one relationship.
“I want love and closeness”, vs. ” I want fuel. I’m addicted to fuel”
“Why it will never work with a N”.
One tries to have all in the relationship living in the eye of the hurricane, while the other is repeatedly pulling the participants into the maelstrom.
Excellent work HG!
It just occurs to me that on IG you just went to New York and to Florida, after I just posted on here a week ago that that’s where Italians mostly are over here, regarding great out of body o’s with them. Now I’ve just gotta wonder if you fit any encounters like that into your itinerary, and if so, do tell.
Yeah, I didn’t think so. 😊
This piece has a quiet power about it, and it’s impact is more pronounced when we hear you reading it.
It’s an outstanding piece of writing.
The soft-spoken pathos is perfect as you give voice to the heartache and longing, and emotional strength and fatigue of the Empath…..
The Empath who has done everything humanly possible to make it work.
The Empath who has applied every last scintilla of intelligence to assess, diagnose, plan, intervene, and reassess on continuous loop, on continuous hamster wheel, to achieve a successful relationship with the N.
Always watching for changes in microexpressions of the N.
For microchanges in mood.
Everything to avoid painful retribution.
The listener feels the fatigue, the tristesse, the shades of tedium, the ennui, and the numbness that accompanies the emotional fatigue.
The burn out.
The inevitable burn out of unrequited love.
The first thing that comes to mind when I read this post is the William Shakespeare quote, “Love me or hate me, both are in my favour…If you love me I will always be in your heart if you hate me I will always be in your mind.” Shakespeare, like HG was also a talented writer and potentially a narcissist?
Narcissists are loyal only to their need for our fuel while they still need our fuel – once their need changes so does their loyalty. It is ironic that we spend so much time in our own heads trying to draw out meaning and reasoning when really it is that simple – we as people were never even part of the equation.
A narcissistic dynamic is like a rubix cube that has been tampered with (stickers rearranged) – unsolvable. No matter how many times we pick it up, put it down, turn it around and play with it we cannot change it or make it the genuine article; frustrating and futile.
You are the only one in all the years I have been on here that has mentioned Shakespeare being a potential narcissist. I would bet my entire savings that he was. I love Shakespeare and knowing now the attraction and addiction I have to narcissists and them to me, makes me have no doubt in my mind, I would win that bet.
“To be or not to be, that is the question.” Ha!
I hear you! I think the addiction is very prevalent when we consider Shakespeare’s work and the way it consumes people. His tales show a next level understanding of the human condition and the vulnerabilities of others. Let’s just diagnose him right now 🤭
This is a great comment Sarah.
Also… it makes me feel like if the narc feels it’s a good thing to be hated… then maybe I should think it’s not so bad either.
Can you really hate? I have tried and tried to hate every single one of them from beginning to end, I can’t even do that without feeling some type of guilt.
I personally can feel hate for short periods of time. But ultimately see it as an unproductive feeling in moving forward and like the quote said… it keeps the memory alive which I rather let go of. I don’t hate my narc. I see that as wasted energy.
What I was more trying to say though is… I’m working on feeling OK with the fact that he hates me. I’m painted black because of how things ended. And how much I challenged his authority to do whatever he wants.
Im a people pleaser so for the longest time I felt guilty I did things that make him hate me. Because I did act out of line at times. But I don’t want to feel that guilt anymore… I have been telling myself him hating me is a good thing… it’s a compliment… it means I escaped.
Good for you empath for realizing when a narcissist hates you that is a good thing! I get the people pleaser part completely. Perhaps it’s time for us people pleasers to start pleasing ourselves! 🥰
Precisely. Bring on the haters. As sir Winston Churchill said “you have enemies? Good. That means you’ve stood for something in your life”
Love it! 😉
Yes, the hate is so well deserved we should serve that one up with fries and make a meal.
It is their need for a reaction that gets under my skin, so I have to hate them silently so as not to provide fuel. Over the last 2 years I have developed a level of indifference, which is my leading position when I think of them now. The sprinkles of hate remain, but it is more objective; one step removed apathy for their way of life, behaviours and treatment of others. I still find reading and learning about narcissists fascinating but being face-to-face with them doesn’t interest me at all.
Face to face with them I am at a total loss. It doesn’t matter how much I read or understand. They will still be of an alien nature to me. But at least now I can let thier alien nature bother me a little
Less…. and I can tone down my fuel as much as humanly possible.
A big achievement and sadly we are the lucky ones as so many people will spend their whole lives unknowingly fighting for their place on the end of a pitchfork.
But a Rubik’s Cube *is* solvable.
*Sorry, I skimmed over the “tampered-with (stickers rearranged” part.
In which case: But on a Rubik’s Cube one can always rearrange the stickers again!
Yes Lisk and then someone may tamper with them again! Push, pull, love, hate – the game never ends until we tap out.
Damn that fuel is some serious shit HG
Thanks again HG